Broken Promises
by Lady Revan
Summary: Post SW KOTOR, LSF Revan and Carth: After searching for Carth's son Dustil takes a turn for the worst, Revan leaves her old life behind, and has returned to a life of smuggling. But her friends don't give up that easily. This is a Sequel to my fic Promise
1. Nal Simer

**Chapter One: Nal Simer**

* * *

Now: 

Nal Simer, struggling smuggler, didn't need a partner. But something about the woman standing in front of him made him change his mind.

He had been sitting at a table inside The Drunk Side, a small tavern in Dreshdae, Korriban—a notorious watering hole for bounty hunters, mercenaries, smugglers, and assassins—when she approached him. He'd just gotten paid a hefty fee for a rather easy job of delivering weapons to an underground operation, and was drinking some of his paycheck away. The sandy-haired, blue-eyed smuggler took one look at the woman who approached him, instantly noticing her bright eyes. She was beautiful, yet looked tough, like someone that didn't put up with a lot of bantha fodder. As pleasing to the eye as she was, Nal wasn't in the mood to talk. He looked away from the woman, pretending he hadn't noticed her approaching.

"I hear you're looking for a smuggling partner?"

Nal leaned back in his chair and sipped his Tarsian ale. "You do, huh?" he asked before he remembered he was supposed to be ignoring her. He turned his head and stared. She was wearing tan slacks, knee-high brown boots, a tan top, and a brown cargo vest. Around her neck she wore a silver necklace with a light-blue stone. Her hair had been tied back, yet loose wavy strands framed her face. Her face had dirt smudges; she looked like she had been crawling around in the Korriban tombs. Nal noticed her blaster holster strapped to her right leg held what looked to be, judging from what he could see, a standard-issued Republic blaster pistol. Was she a spy, or did she kill the person the blaster belonged to? "So what's a beautiful woman like you asking someone like me if they're looking for a smuggling partner?"

"Because if you are," she answered, "I'd be interested in the job."

Nal looked her in the eye. "What makes you say that?"

"You're Nal Simer," she answered. "I'd recognize your face anywhere."

"You seem to have me at a disadvantage."

"I first saw you on Corellia," she said. "Two years ago. You and your partner were up for the same job me and my ex-partner were. You got it, we didn't."

Nal took another swig of her ale. "Refresh my memory."

"Smuggling Naboo spices across Republic trade routes for the Exchange." Nal stopped drinking and looked at her. "You dumped your payload when those Republic Officers stopped you for a routine check. Pissed the Exchange off, and lost your creditability, not to mention a lot of jobs. You tried to get back on your feet, then your partner—"

"So you know who I am," Nal interrupted, "and you know my past. So I'm assuming you know—"

"That you've spent the last two years trying to hide from your past, and now, thanks to the destruction of Taris and the death of Davik Kang, you're trying to clear your name, and forget the past two years?" she said. "Yes, I know."

Nal raised an eyebrow. "You a mind reader, Miss?"

She smiled. "Maybe."

He shook his head. "For someone who knows an awful lot about me, you're gravely mistaken about me needing a partner." He turned away from her. "You seem like a nice woman. But me and mine, that's all I need."

"Well, that's where you're gravely mistaken," she answered.

Nal turned back towards her. "Excuse me?"

"See," she smiled, leaning against the table, "you and I have some things in common. We've been hurt in the past by people we trusted. We both have pasts we're trying desperately to run from. And we're both trying to rebuild our lives from scratch by doing the only thing we know how to do right."

Nal nodded towards her weapon. "Your past involve the Republic?"

"Republic. Jedi. Sith. Exchange. Czerka. Hell, even the Mandalorians." She reached over and grabbed his glass of ale, then downed the rest of its contents. "That's why this partnership will work. You don't trust me, I don't trust you. If there's anything about me you want to believe to be the truth, know that I work by the Smugglers' Code, and if I tell you something, you best believe it." She tossed his glass in the air, then grabbed her blaster and shot the glass, sending fragments of the beverage container flying in several different directions. She spun the blaster with her finger, then re-holstered the weapon. "And that's all you need to know."

"I will admit I'm impressed," Nal said, "but I got just one question, Miss Fountain of Information. You specifically said Davik Kang is dead, and that your past somehow involves the Exchange. No one knows for a fact Kang's gone, just that the Exchange is in turmoil ever since Taris bit the big one. There are rumors he's gone, and no one's seen him in eighteen months or so—"

She smiled coldly. "Who do you think killed him?"

Nal swallowed a mouthful of air and gulped. She was an assassin, too? Suddenly this mysterious woman who may or may not be able to read minds and was in trouble with every main organization out there had become a lot scarier. And she'd most likely get even scarier if he said no. The entire situation was creepy. This woman clearly needed something. Maybe a ticket off Korriban? Then again, could he blame her for wanting to leave this cesspool of darkness? At least she wasn't a seducing hitchhiker like the girl on Manaan. Although based on her curvy backside, he wouldn't mind if she was. Besides that, who knew? Judging from her brief display of skills with a blaster, maybe she'd turn into a real asset to his small, measly operation. He could even earn some credibility and show his future employers that he was so reliable now, someone approached him to partner instead of him begging or working solo. And if she was planning on eventually stabbing him in the back, he knew the warning signs based on previous experience with his former partner. "It's my ship," he said.

She smiled. "Agreed."

"My jobs. You work for me."

"Agreed."

"Ten percent off the top."

"Twenty."

"Twelve."

"Fifteen."

Nal nodded. "Done."

"Room accommodations?" she asked.

Nal smiled. "It's a small ship, darlin'."

She raised an eyebrow. "_Gambit _is a standard Corellian freighter, complete with three bunks." She glared. "No bunking."

She knew the name of his ship, too? Who was this woman? "I use the extra bedrooms for storage."

"Not any more you don't." She glared. "And in addition to our agreement? That's the last time you call me 'darlin'."

He stood and extended his hand. "I don't believe we've been properly introduced."

She smiled and shook his hand. "Liana."

Nal raised an eyebrow. "You have a last name?"

"Do you need to know it?"

"Already off to a bad start?"

"Buy me a drink and make it up to me."

Nal looked at Liana. "I thought I was the one in charge." He flagged the waiter, and ordered two Tarisian Ales. When the waiter returned with the drinks, Nal held his glass up. "To a mutually beneficial partnership built on no trust and fleeing pasts."

Liana smiled and raised her glass. "To a mutually beneficial partnership."

They clinked glasses and drank.

* * *

"_Gambit_ ain't much to look at," Nal said as he led Liana to the docking bay. "But then again, name me a ship that is." 

"A silver Naboo cruiser?"

Nal looked at Liana and snorted. "Lifetime of smuggling wouldn't buy me one of those." They turned the corner and walked onto the docking bay platform, coming face to face with _Gambit_. "She's been through a lot," he said. "And she's got it where it counts." He watched Liana look the ship over. Nal had repainted the circular-shaped ship himself in shades of gray and blue once he bought it. He noted the look of concern on her face. "It's not the best paint job ever, but I couldn't afford much at the time. Maybe if I had killed Darth Malak and cashed in on the reward, I could have given her that Naboo chrome finish." Nal saw Liana turn white. She looked almost in shock. "You okay?"

She blinked. "I'm…I'm sorry." She shook her head. "Sorry, I…I wasn't aware there was a reward for killing Malak."

"Bet that pretty face of yours there was," he said. "Could buy me a fleet of those Naboo ships. No one was sane enough to try and take out Malak, though." He laughed. "I mean, when have you heard of a Bounty Hunter taking out a Sith Lord? Or a mere Smuggler? Nah, the Sith either kill themselves or get taken out by the Jedi. How it'll always be."

"How do you know so much about the Sith?" Liana asked.

"This ain't my first spice run," he said. Nal pointed behind him with his thumb. "Look at what happened at the Sith Academy. Big fish died, all the little fish started to gobble each other up. Same thing happened when Malak died. They all started turnin' on each other cuz there was no authority figure to tell them otherwise. And the ones that didn't kill each other went all nuts and vowed revenge on the Jedi, only to get themselves killed in the process."

Liana suddenly looked very interested. "What do you know about Malak's death?" She asked the question as if she were conducting an interview. Nal was a bit suspicious over that, but figured it wasn't her intent.

"Only what I hear on the Holonews," he said. He looked back at his ship, and walked over towards the entrance ramp. After punching in the security code, the ramp lowered. He gestured for Liana to enter first. "They say it was a Jedi Strike Team that led the assault. Some non-Jedi helped out, I heard. Probably some damn idiots after the reward."

"I heard one of them was a Republic War Hero," she said, walking up the ship's ramp. "Got promoted afterwards, too."

"Still makes him a damn fool," Nal said, "thinkin' he can fight along side a Jedi, tell them what to do. And they said there was a Mandalorian helpin' out, too? What business he got takin' out a Sith Lord? His people got wiped out during the war, so he helps the people that made that happen? There's another idiot for the list." He walked up the ramp behind Liana. After entering the ship, he pressed a button, and the ramp retracted.

"I'm sure they're not as bad as people make them out to be," Liana said as the ramp closed.

"Who, the Republic guy and the Mandalorian?" Nal snorted. "Mandalorians are scum. They got what they deserved. And that Republic War Hero probably got promoted to get him out of the way. Hope he's sittin' behind a desk somewhere now." Nal gestured behind him. "Bunks and refresher are that way, cargo bay and common room are that way, kitchen's around the corner, and cockpit is past the kitchen. You can go anywhere on the ship, but if I catch you pokin' your nose in something I don't like, don't think I won't space you just cuz you're a woman."

"Noted," she said. Figuring the conversation was over, Nal started to walk away. "I heard a report that Revan was a member of that Jedi Strike Team," Liana softly said.

Nal turned around. "Yeah, I heard that, too. Some garbage about him not really being dead. Something about the Jedi capturing him alive five years ago and making it look like Malak killed him."

"Then Revan helped the Jedi defeat Malak." She stated that like it was a fact. Nal raised an eyebrow and was about to inquire when she quickly added: "I mean, that's what I heard."

"Heard that, too. Something about him being redeemed." Nal snorted. "I think it's all one big publicity stunt, personally. You don't see this so-called 'redeemed Revan' being paraded around the galaxy. Not even a picture on the Holonews."

"Maybe the Jedi have Revan barricaded from the public?"

"Possibly. Also heard Revan died on the Star Forge, and that the Jedi are pretending he's really alive." He shook his head. "I don't know. There's so many rumors out there. People just subscribe to the rumor they like the most, then argue it's a fact."

"Maybe Revan is alive and just wants to be normal," Liana said. Nal raised an eyebrow. Liana turned white again, then stumbled over her words. "I'm just sayin'. Revan…Revan does all these horrible things, seeks and gains redemption from everything that was done. I mean, what if it's true? What if Revan really has changed for the good now, and just wants to lead a normal life? Do you really think the public would accept that? I mean, how many people want to kill Revan for what was done to either them or family or just in general?"

"A lot of 'em," Nal said. "I don't know anything about Jedi Redemption. Sounds like a load of bantha fodder. The way I see it, if you're evil, you're evil." He shook his head. "Galaxy's better off without them, and that's a fact. Whether Malak killed Revan or Revan killed Malak, I don't care. They're both dead, and thank the Force for that." He turned around and started to walk away again. "Make yourself at home. We leave for Smuggler's Moon soon. Got a job waiting for me there."

"Smuggler's Moon?" Liana asked. "Nar Shaddaa?"

Nal turned around and started walking backwards. "The one and only."

"You sure know how to show a girl a good time," she said. "First job, and already you're bringing me to a moon run by the Exchange."

"Only the refugee sector, sweetheart," Nal said.

"Sweetheart?"

Nal shrugged. "Just a habit. Is there something else you'd prefer I called you?" For the third time in as many minutes, Liana seemed to turn white again.

"I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head. "It's just…someone asked me that very same question a long time ago. Just…reminded me of him—I'm sorry."

He frowned. "Is that good or bad?"

It looked to Nal as if she was forcing a smile. "Fleeing pasts, remember?"

He nodded. "Right. I'll, uh, call you to the cockpit when I'm ready to leave. So just walk around and get your bearings."

"You're very trusting," she said.

Nal smiled. "No, I'm not." He turned around. "The entire ship's bugged. You can't even sneeze without me knowing it." As he walked away, under his breath he muttered, "Good thing, too. This one's a bit loony."

* * *

Liana wandered down the back halls of _Gambit_ and found an empty bunk. Nal said he didn't really care where she slept, so this room was as good as any other. She closed the door behind her, locked it, then leaned against the door and sighed. She slid down to the floor, hugged her knees, and rested her forehead on her kneecaps. 

_What if I'm making a big mistake?_ _I can't just up and run away._ She felt tears forming, but fought them back. _No, I _can_ just up and run away. I'm a danger to everyone…especially Carth. I made the right decision. Nal doesn't know about my past. He doesn't know who I am. I can make a fresh start, and no one will be any wiser._

Well, there was the matter of deciding to now go by her birth name again. If Carth did go looking for her, tracking down someone named Liana Suul who took off on a ship leaving Dreshdae wasn't going to be that difficult.

_Who am I kidding? He's not going to go looking for me…especially not after…_ _Oh, Dustil… I shouldn't've done… _Liana began to sob hard, holding nothing back. _I shouldn't've done it… I should've listened… I should've stopped…_

Had she done the right thing in the first place? Coming to Korriban to find Dustil was her idea in the first place. Maybe Carth should have come alone. _No,_ she told herself. _Then he would have died for sure. I'd rather him be alive then be dead and gone forever. It's better this way. It's better that I leave._

Finding Nal Simer in the cantina was sheer luck of the Force. Liana was willing to abandon her Force persuasion powers and pay any smuggler or freighter captain for a one-way ticket off Korriban. But there was Nal, all alone and most likely drunk. She knew of him, but had never met the man. And she was certain just at first look he was Nal. There was no other smuggler in the galaxy that looked as handsome as he was. Why he had become a smuggler when he could have easily smiled and charmed his way up any corporate ladder was a mystery. Liana knew of his past thanks to the false life the Jedi planted in her mind. She also knew he was safe. So with a few lies and over-selling of her abilities and past, she was now his partner—and more important, off Korriban.

Nal's voice suddenly came out of the speaker in her room. "Liana, I need you in the cockpit," he said. "I'm ready to go. Time to show off those co-pilot skills I'm hopin' you have. Otherwise we're gonna renegotiate this fifteen percent."

Liana took a deep breath and tried to calm down. She wiped her eyes, sniffed, and then stood up. As she stood, her datapad fell out of her side pocket. She ignored it, instead walking over to the speaker and pressing the call button. "I'm on my way." She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror hanging on the wall. "I'm a wreck," she whispered, looking at her puffy red eyes and dirt-and-tear-smeared face. Maybe after a quick stop at the refresher sink to splash some water on her face she'd feel better.

Before leaving her room, Liana bent over and picked up the fallen datapad. It had somehow switched on—maybe when it hit the floor—and the last message she had read was on the display screen:

"_Hey, Beautiful. I got your message. I wanted to confirm the plans for tomorrow morning. The Ebon Hawk is on the old Republic's docking bay, just south of where we first docked when landing on Coruscant. I'll be there at dawn. I'm assuming Zaabar, Mission, and the droids are coming with, and have made plans accordingly. I love you, Beautiful, and can't thank you enough to agreeing to come to Citadel Station. And I'm so grateful the Jedi Council is letting you come, let alone actually leave the Temple. I can't wait to see you again. It's been too, too long, and I look forward to making up for the lost time. Love always, Carth." _

Liana deleted the message, switched the datapad off, then shoved it in her pocket.

* * *

_And thus begins another tale. Thanks to crazyocelot and darth lilias for previewing and offering ideas and suggestions!_


	2. Reunion

**Chapter Two: Reunion**

* * *

Two months prior: 

"…_I can't wait to see you again. It's been too, too long, and I look forward to making up for the lost time. Love always, Carth."_

Revan smiled. She fingered the message. "It's been too, too long," she whispered in agreement, then read the last three lines several times, hearing Carth's voice in her head. She'd finally get to see him again, after all these weeks. She looked up and saw the Ebon Hawk parked on the docking bay. But there was no sign of Carth. Maybe because it wasn't quite dawn yet?

When the crew of the Ebon Hawk had finally landed on Coruscant after the aftermath of the Star Forge, they were instantly separated. Bastila, Jolee, Juhani, and Revan were all sent to the Jedi Temple to meet behind closed doors with the Jedi Council. There they spent the next week, both in group and one-on-one interviews with the Council, discussing every last details of their journey. The four were not allowed to discuss their private sessions with the Council, especially Bastila and Revan. That proved difficult due to their bond. Bastila had been the first of the two to meet with the Council, and judging from her shaken emotions, it hadn't been a pleasant ordeal. Revan was concerned for her friend, but Bastila wouldn't tell her anything that had been said, only whispering, "They'll do worse to you, no doubt."

"But I didn't fall this time," Revan had said.

"It doesn't matter. You still have a past life to answer for. You may have proven to the rest of us that you've changed for the good, but the Council isn't convinced."

"What do you mean the Council isn't convinced?" Revan had asked. "Bastila, I killed my best friend, and—"

The young Jedi shook her head. "The Council needs to be one hundred percent sure you're no longer in danger of falling. Please forgive me, Revan, but if you had been at peace with yourself, if you had accepted your fate and your new life with the Jedi Order, then you wouldn't have attempted suicide. That decision shows fear, anger, doubt, and insecurity. Those are Dark Side traits." Bastila was right, as per usual, and there was nothing more to say.

The following day Revan met with the Council. Her interview session lasted three days, during which the Council discussed everything from her experiences on Taris to her torture on the _Leviathan_, from dealing with the truth about her past to facing Darth Malak on the Star Forge. Revan didn't fear the questions, but she was afraid that somehow the Council would discover her relationship with and feelings for Carth. She buried those feelings, hoping that they wouldn't surface during the interview sessions, for the Council would certainly be able to sense them. Whenever Carth's name came up in conversation, she pictured him as she first met him—another solider on the _Endar Spire_, and her only partner on Taris. It did prove to be difficult at times, especially when Master Vandar asked how her friends dealt with the truth of her past.

"They all accepted it," Revan had answered. "They were all shocked, but realized that I wasn't that monster anymore. They saw me for who I was, not what I was. I… It was very… comforting to know that my friends… that they really were my friends, that they understood I truly hadn't known. They were willing to stick by me after learning the truth."

Master Vandar had given her an inquiring look. "Everyone accepted you right away?"

"Carth didn't," she had admitted. "He…He screamed at me and blamed me for the death of his wife and the capture and corruption of his only son. He blamed me for what happened to Telos, and outright refused to talk to me unless he absolutely needed to. Everyone else… they stuck up for me, even tried to get him to see things from their point of view. But Carth… he was so filled with sorrow and anger and grief that he wouldn't listen to them."

"Did he ever change his mind?"

Revan had nodded. "He did. He eventually apologized."

"What made him change his mind?"

"I saved his son from the Dark Side," she had said.

Master Vrook had let out a gruff snort, then crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Explain."

Revan had looked in his direction, then nodded. "When we were on Korriban, we infiltrated the Sith Academy in order to gain access to the Korriban Star Map. We had learned previously that Carth's son Dustil had been taken prisoner by the Sith during the destruction of Telos. Carth had requested that we try to find Dustil while we were on Korriban, and I promised him we would make every effort to do so.

"While we were inside the Sith Academy exploring, we happened upon Dustil's room. Carth and Dustil recognized each other instantly, even though four years had passed by. Dustil was… he was so full of hate for his father." Revan had paused. She then took a moment to gather her thoughts before continuing. "They screamed at each other, Dustil blaming Carth for his mother's death, Carth telling Dustil it wasn't his fault. I finally stepped in to try to talk to Dustil. We had found a holocron in Master Uthar Wynn's room that had documented evidence that Dustil had been deceived by the Sith. I was able to use that holocron's data to convince him the Sith had lied to him all these years, that they weren't his new family, and he'd end up as evil as they were."

"Did Dustil Onasi listen?" Master Vandar asked.

"It took some doing, but he did," Revan had answered, "especially when Dustil learned that the woman who originally recruited him to the academy was killed for hindering his progress. He realized the errors in his ways, apologized to his father, and promised to leave the Sith Academy. They made plans to meet again Telos after our journey was over with. I just… I just hope they can make amends. It will take some time, but… I think Carth and Dustil will be all right. Dustil needs to unlearn everything he's known, and that's going to be the hard part. I told Carth if there was anything I could do to help Dustil I'd be more than willing. Dustil's strong in the Force, but with all his Dark Side training…" her voice trailed off. The Jedi Council had not responded. They had simply exchanged looks with one another, then moved on to another topic.

That was over a month ago. Revan had spent the past thirty-nine days locked inside the Jedi Temple, for the Jedi Council ruled it unsafe for Revan to leave. There were reports all over the Holonews of Revan-sightings, along with conspiracy theories, accusations of Jedi Council cover-ups, along so-called eye-witnesses to Revan's death five years ago, and reports of Revan and Malak followers seeking revenge in between squabbling with each other as to who the more powerful Sith Lord had been. Although Revan did agree there was a risk, she pointed out to the Council that not only did all of the reports referred to Darth Revan as a male, but there were no published pictures of her face with any of the reports. She felt she would be safe, but would keep her lightsaber close in case of any trouble. But the Council didn't want to take any chances. She was not allowed to leave the Jedi Temple under any circumstances until it was deemed safe again. And there was no timeframe as to when that was going to happen.

During the past thirty-nine long days, some of Revan's friends had begun to drift away. Jolee left the Jedi Temple for parts unknown, most likely back to his home on Kashyyyk. Although he kept in touch with Revan via the holonet, Jolee never said where he was contacting her from. Juhani discovered her friend Belaya had survived the attack on Dantooine and was now living at the Temple. The two began to spend more and more time together, and as a result, Revan rarely saw her friend.

The only person Revan had lost complete contact with was Canderous Ordo, a Mandalorian mercenary who had pledged his loyalty to her. She knew he had been feeling uncomfortable about stepping foot on the Republic's central planet, and had assumed he left Coruscant at his earliest convenience. The last time she spoke to him, he had hinted at having no interest in returning to a life of working for underground kings like Davik Kang. Revan had made mention that it was a shame the surviving Mandalorians hadn't created a new colony somewhere. She'd even suggested that Canderous would make a great leader for his surviving people, but nothing more was said on the issue. He disappeared shortly afterwards. She'd tried to find a way of contacting him, but no one Revan had spoken to knew of Canderous's whereabouts.

But not everyone had left. Zaalbar still vowed a life-debt to Revan, and planned on continuing to serve her. The Jedi Council had granted Zaalbar permission to stay inside the Jedi Temple, although Revan could sense they were not pleased about the decision. Revan assumed the Jedi Council ultimately was not about to dishonor the Wookiee culture and way-of-life that came with pledging a life-debt, especially seeing Zaalbar was a Wookiee Chieftain's son. However, Zaalbar's permission came with restrictions. There were only certain areas of the Temple he was allowed to visit, and he was to be escorted everywhere he went. Mission Vao, Zaalbar's teenage Twi'lek best friend, was not allowed access or residence inside the Temple. Not wanting to see the teenager alone on the streets of Coruscant, Revan had struck up a deal with Carth to allow Mission to stay with him. During the day, Zaalbar visited with Mission, and at night, Zaalbar returned to the Temple. This arrangement also allowed Carth and Revan to trade messages, like the one on her datapad, since Carth felt it too chancy to send video messages over the holonet. Also not allowed inside the Temple were Revan's droids HK-47 and T3-M4. Carth reluctantly agreed to take care of them, as well. If one thing was certain in the entire arrangement, it was Carth wouldn't be lonely.

Revan fingered Carth's text message again. After arriving on Coruscant, Carth had been sent to meet with the Admirals of the Republic Navy. Revan didn't know all the behind-closed-doors details of what happened to Carth, but she did know he had been promoted to Commodore for his role in the defeat of the Sith Empire. With his promotion had come a new office and a new desk for the flyboy to command. He had sent messages to Revan through Zaalbar stating he didn't particularly care for his new assignment and position, but understood the reasoning behind him. Carth never did explain what that meant.

Just last week, Zaalbar had delivered a message from Carth that said he was ready to make amends with his son, and had asked if the Council would allow her to come. _"I really want you with me on this, just like you agreed before we came to Coruscant,"_ the message had read._ "If you can't now because of the leash the Jedi Council has on you, I understand. But it would mean the universe to me if you could." _She immediately went to the Jedi Council and explained why she needed to accompany Carth. To Revan's surprise, the Jedi Council was quick to grant her permission, but did not say why. Revan speculated it was due to their knowledge of Dustil's force sensitivity, the Council's desperate need for new recruits, and the possibility he would be interested in joining the Jedi. But Revan didn't particularly care because she'd gotten what she wanted. Before the Council changed their minds, she had Zaalbar contact Carth telling him of the news.

She fingered the message a third time, then turned to Zaalbar. "Did Carth say anything else?" she asked. Zaalbar shook his head no. Revan turned back to the message. "Tomorrow at dawn," she read. "Old Republic Hangar." She looked around again. "So where is he?" Zaalbar woofed that they were too early. "No, we're not," she said. "No, he said tomorrow at dawn. And it's tomorrow." Zaalbar pointed out it wasn't dawn yet. "It's almost dawn. The sun should start rising within the hour." When the Wookiee complained, Revan said, "Well, I wanted to be here early in case he needed any help. You know… loading boxes, starting the ship… stuff to help with." Zaalbar said she sounded like Mission, then stood back on his heels and said nothing else.

No one else was on the hangar, except for a few maintenance droids. The droids paid them no attention, as Revan had donned her old smuggling clothes. It wasn't a very fashionable outfit, but it was comfortable, and she played the part of a common citizen well. About half an hour later, Carth and Mission arrived with the droids. Revan's heart skipped a beat when she saw Carth approach. She didn't recognize him at first—he wasn't wearing his usual orange jacket 'uniform,' instead wearing an outfit similar to hers. She started walking towards him, her footsteps turning into a jog, then eventually a full-fledged run.

"Hey!" Mission called to her, waving frantically.

Revan ran right into Carth's arms, paying Mission no attention. She held him tight. Carth gave her a squeeze. "Hey, Beautiful," he whispered.

Mission huffed. "Haven't seen her in a month, and she doesn't even say hi!" Revan cupped Carth's cheek with her hand, then kissed him. He held her even tighter than before and kissed back. Mission wrinkled her nose.

"Observation: Master seems pre-occupied at the moment, blue meatbag," HK-47 said. "Master normally does not acknowledge others when she and the Republic meatbag are pressing their slimy, mucus-covered lips together. Observation: Meatbags are rather sordid creatures, with equally nauseating mating customs and rituals. Thinking about how they managed to create such intelligent creatures as we droids rusts my capacitors."

"Gag me already, will ya?" Mission cried at Carth and Revan. "Geeze! You two are in public!"

Carth broke the kiss. He pressed his forehead against Revan's, stroked her hair, and smiled. "I've missed you so much," he whispered.

"I've missed you, too," she said. Out of the corner of her eye, Revan saw Mission making disgusted faces. She winked at Carth, then said, "I read your messages every night before I go to bed."

"And Carth moans your name in his sleep," Mission said. "Now that that's out of the way, let's go!"

Carth blushed. Revan giggled as she laced her arm through Carth's. "The children are getting antsy. Come on, Flyboy. I wanna see if the ship's changed since I last saw it."

As Mission, Zaalbar, and the droids headed for the ship, Revan and Carth lazily strolled behind. "I really do appreciate you coming," Carth said to Revan. "This… this means a lot to me."

She smiled. "I know how much Dustil means to you. I saw the way your face lit up when you learned he was still alive, and saw how it crushed you when you discovered he had joined the Sith."

Carth sighed. "I still have…" He hesitated, then started again. "You took the time to look for Dustil, and convince him to turn away from the dark side, despite the fact I wasn't speaking with you."

"I wasn't going to back out on my promise to you that we'd look for Dustil," Revan said. "You promised to protect me from myself, and you did. I promised to help you make amends with him."

"You make it sound like you owe me."

"In a way, I do. But that's not why I agreed to help find and save Dustil."

"Why then?"

Revan smiled. She stopped walking and turned to face Carth. "You worry too much, Flyboy," she said, then gave the front of his shirt a tug, lowing his face to hers. After a quick kiss, she cupped the side of his face. "You said it yourself," she whispered. "You can't give me a future with you if I never see you. No other reason than that. Now, come on. Let's get going before Mission makes any more snide remarks about us, okay?"

Carth simply smiled and nodded.


	3. Traditions

**Chapter Three: Traditions**

* * *

Now: 

"So what does this job entail?" Liana asked Nal as she punched in the coordinates to Nar Shaddaa on the navi-computer.

He gestured towards the cockpit controls. "You plot the course, I fly there."

She shook her head. "That's not what I meant. The job you have lined up on Nar Shaddaa. What is it?"

"A smuggling job."

Liana rolled her eyes. "Here I thought we'd be planting trees."

Nal smiled. "So full of questions." He waited for her to finish plotting the course, then said, "So let me ask you something: How long have you been smuggling?"

Without batting an eye, she replied, "For as long as I can remember. You?"

"About the same," he said. "Take any risky jobs?"

"They've all been risky," she said. "Some more than others."

_Gambit_ left the landing dock, and headed for space. Liana looked out the side window as Korriban was being left behind. She could see the Valley of the Dark Lords from the window, but saw no sign of the _Ebon Hawk_. She closed her eyes. _They didn't even bother to stay and look for me_. A tear fell down her face.

"Can I ask where you got that?"

Liana quickly wiped the tear away. "Got what?"

"That rock around your neck," he said. "I noticed that when I met you back there. Reward for a big job?"

Liana felt her stomach sink. _Carth's necklace. _She touched the smooth, light-blue gem. "It… It was given to me."

"What kind of rock is it?"

"Telosian blue diamond."

Nal raised an eyebrow. "Genuine?" Liana nodded. "You're kidding. Do you realize how expensive that is? I mean, especially now after what happened to Telos. Force, I could buy me a new ship with that rock."

"You're not going to yank it off my neck while I'm sleeping, are you?"

"Wouldn't dream of it, darlin'," he said. "Whatever you did to deserve it, it's yours." He smiled. "Course, then again if _Gambit_ breaks down…"

Liana's eyes narrowed. "You steal this on me, you won't live to explain why."

"That sounded like a threat," Nal said with a smile. He turned to Liana and saw the serious look on her face. His smile vanished as he turned his head forward and looked out the window. Under his breath, he muttered, "Nice to see I still know my tone inflections."

* * *

Two Months Prior: 

Revan was staring out the window of the shared Citadel Station living quarters when Carth entered the room. She didn't turn around. Instead she smiled as she sensed him approach. She felt his arm drape around her shoulders as he leaned over and kissed the side of her head. "Where're the others?" he asked.

"Mission decided to some exploring, so Zaalbar accompanied her," Revan answered. "They've only been here a day and are already getting restless. And the droids are around here somewhere. One of these rooms."

Carth smiled. "This place certainly is big enough." Upon arrival that morning, Commodore Onasi and his party were escorted to one of the many luxury apartments set aside for high ranking Republic officers and high profile guests. The "apartment" housed five bedrooms, two living areas, a massive kitchen, and a glass-enclosed balcony. Many former plants and flowers from Telos's surface had been potted and placed around the various rooms. Carth had also pointed out the numerous duplicated Telos paintings that were hanging on the walls. Mission had thought the paintings were beautiful. HK-47 felt they were a waste of art supplies.

"Only the best for the Commodore," Revan said. She leaned into him as she continued to look out the window. Since arriving earlier that morning, Carth had been out looking for his son. Revan had offered to come, but Carth told her no, he wanted to check the flight rosters himself. So with the droids Revan stayed, wondering why Carth—who seemed more than happy to have her there—didn't want her accompanying him around the station. Maybe he was afraid someone would recognize her? She wasn't wearing anything that screamed "Jedi In Disguise". Then again, she had stressed there were things he needed to do by himself. Maybe he felt this was one of them?

While Carth was gone, Revan had taken HK-47 and T3-M4 with her and visited Citadel Station's shopping district. In hopes of blending in easier, she had had purchased some traditional-looking Telosian garments. She currently was wearing a blue long-sleeved silk-layered dress, and her hair down—just the way he liked it. And Carth hadn't even commented. She sensed his distraction, and blamed that. "So any luck finding Dustil?"

Carth sighed. "I went down to the hangar bay to check for Dustil's name. He wasn't in the computer database. Then I checked with Republic headquarters. They couldn't find Dustil's name anywhere either. According to all records, Dustil's never set foot on Citadel Station. I had them search for every 'Dustil' and 'Onasi' on file. Only 'Onasi' was me, and there were half a dozen Dustils. All dead ends."

"Could he have traveled under a different name?" she asked.

"Checked that," Carth said. "I had them run a check on nick-names he used to go by, a combination of letters from his full name, my wife's maiden name… Nothing."

She turned to face him, hooking her hands behind his neck. "Why don't you take T3 with you tomorrow? He could search the databases a lot faster." Carth didn't say anything. He looked far away, like something was bothering him. "What?"

"I was just… so excited to meet up with Dustil," he softly said. He looked into her eyes. "I don't want to wait until tomorrow. I want to find him now. What if something happened to him?"

"Stop being so negative," she said. "The emotions you're broadcasting are even making me nervous."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she said. "You'll find Dustil. Don't worry." What Carth needed right now was something to keep his mind off the fact he hadn't been able to locate his son. Revan lightly kissed him, then said, "Now come on. I'm hungry, and you promised me a Telosian dinner."

She sensed some happiness in Carth. "I did promise you that," he said. "And I see you dressed up for the occasion."

"Only the best for the Commodore," she smiled.

"You look beautiful, Beautiful."

Revan blushed. "Thank you." Carth looked distant again. "What?"

"I, uh…" He paused. "I have something I want to ask you."

Her brow furrowed. "What?"

"I think we should sit down first." Revan frowned, then followed Carth to the glass-enclosed balcony. They sat down on the balcony chairs, across from each other. "There… There was a reason why I didn't want you to come with me today."

Revan felt her heart beat faster. She sensed fear from Carth. "You were afraid someone would recognize me," she said. "You were trying to protect me. I understand."

Carth blinked. "Huh?" He looked completely puzzled, then said, "No, no, not that. No, I…" He stopped again. "Do you know anything about Telosian customs?"

"In what respect?"

Carth leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. He laced his fingers together, then looked down at his hands. Revan sensed nervousness and fear. Then again, she was fairly sure she didn't need to be a Jedi to know what he was currently feeling. "There's a… tradition on Telos that… when… well, when two people…" Revan slowly started to smile. She found him so adorable when he was fumbling. "When they're together—like we are. When they're together, the man gives the woman…" He stopped. "Maybe it's easier this way." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a deep red satin bag. "I didn't want you to come with me today, because I didn't want you to see me get this." He handed the bag to Revan.

"Should I open—"

"Please," Carth said.

She opened the bag and pulled out a silver necklace with a light-blue stone at the end. "It's tradition that, that the man gives the woman this stone," he said. "Usually it's, it's on a ring. But…"

Revan fingered the gem, then looked at Carth. "A marriage proposal?"

"No," Carth quickly said. He shook his head, then began fumbling over his words again. "Not… not, 'no.' Sorry, I didn't mean that I wanted—Well, not now, I—" He stopped, then took a deep breath. "What I'm trying to say is, is that I love you. And I meant it when I said I wanted to give you a future with me. But we… we really didn't have a proper… courtship. We were on the Hawk with everyone else on a mission to defeat the Sith, and when all of that was over, we were separated." He reached over and placed his hands over hers. "I want us to get to know one another properly. We loved each other when we were on the Hawk, and—"

"You want to know if I'll love you outside of that setting?" Revan asked. "Without everyone around?" She smiled. "Carth, I do love you. You don't need—"

"It's a tradition here, and it means a lot—"

Revan reached over and cupped the side of his face. "Flyboy, I know what you're trying to say. I love this; it's beautiful. And I know this means a lot to you. But I don't need a necklace to remind me that you love me. This must have cost a fortune—"

"It's a Telosian blue diamond," he said.

Revan's eyes widened. "Do you know how rare these are? Especially this size? You must have spent all the reward credits you got for destroying the Star Forge." She paused. _The Star Forge._ She was part of the reason behind the rarity of this gem, wasn't she?

Carth smiled. "Only the best for the Jedi."

Revan didn't know what to say. She had been upset he had ignored her since arriving, but now… "Carth, I… I can't accept this. This—"

"This is important to me," he said. "I want to do this right." He took the necklace from her. "I want to be with you, Revan. And one day I'll ask you properly. But for now… for now we do things right. That's why I got you this."

Revan smiled. She still felt horrible, but he was so sincere in his words—once he figured out what to say. "Thank you, Flyboy," she whispered. He unclasped the necklace, then placed it around her neck. Taking her hands in his, they stood up. Carth lowered his head and kissed her, placing his hands on the small of her back. Revan kissed him back, her arms wrapped around his neck.

"So do you forgive me for telling you to stay home?" he whispered.

"I'll have to think about it some more."

"How about I continue to make up for it by taking you to dinner?"

"Sounds like a good idea to me."

* * *

_Thanks to Jiara for letting me keep the name of the gem on Revan's necklace. When I originally wrote this chapter, I was trying to come up with some kind of unique stone for Carth to give Revan. I thought I was being "original" with 'Telosian Blue Diamond'... until Jiara pointed out to me that she had first used that name in her fic, and others had since used it in theirs. Oops? So much for being different...? But thank you nonetheless!_


	4. Dangerous Duo

**Chapter Four: Dangerous Duo  
**

* * *

Now: 

Several patrons of The Drunk Side looked up as a Wookiee and a protocol droid entered the establishment. They made for an odd-looking couple, and people couldn't help but stare and whisper to one another. Why was a Wookiee traveling with a protocol droid? And why was the droid carrying a rather powerful-looking blaster rifle?

HK-47, the assassination protocol droid built by Darth Revan, turned to his Wookiee companion. "Statement: I do not like the way these meatbags whisper and point. Query: Shall I shoot them, Furball?"

The furball softly growled. Zaalbar was not about to start shooting random people because of their curiosity, however annoying it might be. He also reminded HK they were in this together, and 'Furball' would not be an appropriate title to refer to him by. They were there to get answers and hopefully find a lead. Revan had left in such a hurry…

"Statement: I shall begin questioning the meatbag patrons," HK-47 said. Zaalbar growled a no. He and HK were partners in this; they were going to handle this situation together. And if any questioning was going to happen, Zaalbar would be doing it. "Affronted Statement: You expect me to be nothing more than a mere translation droid? I'll have you know that I once—"

Zaalbar roared that he was the one in charge, and that if HK had a problem with it, he could hop the next flight back to Citadel Station. HK said nothing. Zaalbar snorted, then looked around the establishment. If he was trying to get off Korriban, this is the place he'd come. And Zaalbar was hoping Revan had thought the same thing. He sniffed the air, trying to pick up her scent. Nothing.

"You two make for a strange couple." Zaalbar looked down and saw who he assumed was the bartender. The human male was short, round, and looked to be twice as old as Carth. "Come lookin' for trouble?" the bartender asked. He eyed HK's weapon. "Your droid seems a bit hostile. Perhaps he should wait outside. I don't want no trouble. No more than usual."

Zaalbar was about to congratulate the bartender on his skills of observation when HK said, "Query: May I shoot the plump meatbag?"

The Wookiee rolled his eyes and growled for droid to lower his weapon, then asked him to translate.

"Translation," the droid said. "My companion wishes to apologize for my behavior—although I do not have any aspirations to." Zaalbar glared at the droid. "We are looking for a friend, and are hoping your beady little meatbag eyes have spotted her." His tone became menacing. "And if you do not answer our questions, I will not be held responsible for the Wookiee dismembering your fat little meatbag body!"

Zaalbar growled.

"Explanation," HK said. "I am attempting to make you sound more hostile. You should be thanking me."

"I don't see no one," the bartender said, taking a few steps away from HK. "Keeps me out of trouble. You got any questions, ask the pilots and smugglers over there. But if you're too nosy, I'll ask ya to leave. Got it?" He looked around. "If anyone would know where your friend is, that man over there would." The bartender jabbed a thumb to the left. "That guy knows everything around here."

"Translation: We will talk to him, then."

"Best if he comes to you, pal," the bartender said. "Man gets a little testy. I'll talk to him for ya."

Zaalbar nodded. "Translation," HK said. "Thank you, fat man."

The Wookiee and the droid wandered over to a far table. Zaalbar sat down and sized up the Drunk Side patrons, while HK stood ready to attack. Was it possible Revan had come here? Was it possible one of these men had seen her? Zaalbar wasn't this type of scout, not by far. But he wasn't going to let Revan slip through his fingers. He didn't know what had caused her to leave. Revan ran away after emerging from the tomb, leaving everyone behind. Zaalbar noticed that Carth didn't seem too heartbroken over her departure, but he simply could have been distracted. But none of that matter right now. Zaalbar had a lifedebt to fulfill, and he was going to find her. It was his duty to serve.

It had taken Zaalbar and HK three days to get to the Drunk Side. They'd made their way from the Valley of the Dark Lords, having to take a series of tunnels and paths around the old Sith Academy. By now the others had to be on Citadel Station, or at least close to arriving. Zaalbar took out his personal holonet datapad and checked for messages. Still no word from Mission. She'd promised to contact him as soon as they reached Telos…

Three days ago was when everything made a turn for the worst. Zaalbar wasn't sure exactly what had happened. He knew that all attempts to find Dustil on Citadel Station turned back nothing. According to all records, Commodore Onasi's son had never arrived. Revan had a hunch that the teenager was still on Korriban, and suggested they return to the Sith World. Next thing Zaalbar knew, he, Mission, HK-47, T3-M4, Carth, and Revan were onboard the _Ebon Hawk_ heading to Korriban. Revan meditated during the journey, letting the Force guide them. Zaalbar remembered Revan telling Carth to land near the Valley of the Sith Lords. She had said she felt Dustil's presence there…

That's when everything went downhill rather fast.

"Observation: There is a meatbag headed this way."

Zaalbar looked up and saw a man dressed in typical smuggler-looking garb. He was the one the bartender pointed at. The man had a round nose, beard, and a foul stench. The man approached Zaalbar. "Bartender said you're lookin' for someone?" The Wookiee could smell the rotgut on the man's breath. "I know all and see all about this place," the man said. "If anyone came in here, I've seen 'em. So just what does this person look like?"

"Translation: A female human, 1.5748 meters in height, with brown hair."

"Female, eh?" the man said, stroking his beard. "Might have seen her. Then again, might not have." He winked at the Wookiee.

"Translation: If there is a monetary reward you are looking for—"

The man sat down across from Zaalbar. "There is, in fact, a monetary reward I'm lookin' for." He smiled sideways. "Buy me another drink and we'll discuss the price."

Zaalbar snorted. He didn't have time for these games. Neither did HK, apparently. "Inquiring Statement: You do realize that you are attempting to extort credits from a Wookiee and a protocol droid carrying a Heavy Repeating Blaster Rifle, Mandalorian-issued. This is not wise, meatsack."

The man looked at HK. "Yeah, I realize it, Rusty." He looked at Zaalbar. "So what do you say? A thousand credits and a glass of ale, then I'll talk."

Zaalbar bared his teeth. "Translation: Talk now, meatbag. Credits later if we like your answer."

"I ain't scared of you." The man stood up. "Course, maybe I didn't see her after all. Maybe that chick with the blue-rock necklace wasn't here after all."

Zaalbar's eyes widened.

"I knew that would get your attention," the man said. "Thousand credits. That's my price."

"Translation: Where did she go? What time was she here?"

"Credits first. Without credits, I wouldn't trust my answers."

Zaalbar only had three hundred credits on him. It was all Mission had given him, and he was not about to waste them on a slimy, waste of a man like the one in front of him. He looked at HK, then woofed a solution to their current situation.

"Answer: By whatever means. I shall enjoy this."

Without wasting another second, Zaalbar leapt up from the table, threw it aside, grabbed the man by the lapels of his jacket, pushed him up against the wall, and roared in his face.

"Observation: It is not wise to upset a Wookiee, meatbag," HK-47 said. He cocked his weapon and placed the barrel end of the rifle underneath the man's chin. "Or an assassination droid with precision-aiming capabilities."

"What are you gonna do?" the man asked, his face inches away from Zaalbar's. "I got somethin' you want! You kill me, you don't get it!"

"Translation: Who said anything about killing you, meatbag?"

The man looked at HK. "In a room full of people you're gonna torture me for information?"

"Query: Do you know what burning flesh smells like?" HK pressed the rifle harder against the man's neck. "Statement: Allow me to demonstrate."

His eyes grew wide as the color in his face drained. "All right! I saw your girl. She came in here, spoke with a man, shot a glass with her rifle, then took off. She had a blue necklace she was wearin'. Fit your description of her perfectly."

"Translation: Who was the man she spoke to?"

"Don't know." Zaalbar tightened his grip and sneered in the man's face. "I don't know, okay! Guy had blonde hair. Looked like a smuggler. Think is name is Simer, but I'm not sure. Only seen him here a couple times. Keeps to himself."

"Assumption," HK said to Zaalbar. "The only meatbag I know of is a smuggler named Nal Simer. He used to be employed by Bochaba the Hutt, until his demise. I remember him well, and how incompetent he was."

"That's him," the man said. His breath became heavy, as if he were about to have a panic attack. "Pretty boy Nal Simer. Dunno much about him, but that's the man she was talkin' to. Now put me down now! Please!"

"Query: What was their destination once they left this pitiful establishment?"

"I don't know." Zaalbar growled. "I swear on Malak's grave, I don't know!" the man cried, trying to squirm away from the Wookiee. "Shoot me if you like! I just saw 'em talkin'!"

"Observation: It appears the slimy meatbag does not seem to know the location Master went. Although, I do not believe him."

"Master?" the man asked. His eyes darted back and forth between Zaalbar and HK. "She owns you two?" Zaalbar roared in the man's face. "Okay, okay! Geeze! Breath mint!"

HK wasn't finished. "Query: Does Simer own a vessel?"

"I don't know." Zaalbar pressed the man harder against the wall. He figured the man had begun to realize just how far over his head he was right now. Along with the pale color of his face and sweat pouring down his brow, he was perspiring profusely, his tunic wet and clinging to his torso. "All right!" he cried, his voice strained in fear. "The ship's name is _Gambit!_ Standard Corellian, YT-2000. Old piece of junk. And I swear that's all I know!"

"Observation: You say that a lot, sweaty one," HK said. "Yet every time you insist you know nothing, you appear to know more."

When Zaalbar snapped at the man, he cringed. "Okay! I heard 'em say something about her working for him! I wasn't paying attention! They left a couple hours ago. This time I _really_ mean it when I say I don't know anything else!"

Zaalbar dropped the man, letting him crash to the floor. He turned to HK, and suggested they head for the docking bay. There was a chance Revan was still on Korriban. If she wasn't, there was always _Gambit's_ flight plan… assuming that really was the name of the ship. Regardless, it would require Zaalbar and HK finding a ship of their own…

Zaalbar reached into his pocket and tossed fifty credits at the man.

"Translation: Thank you for the information. We no longer require your assistance."

The man rubbed his back. "Whatever."

* * *

"Sorry, _Gambit_ already left," the docking bay chief said to Zaalbar and HK-47. He punched a few more buttons on his console. "Looks like they're headed to Nar Shaddaa." He looked up at them. "I take it you're lookin' for this ship?" 

"Statement: Our Master is on board," HK said. "We wish to return to her."

"She abandoned you," the docking bay chief said, "and yet you want to find her?" He shook his head. "I say cut your losses."

Zaalbar ignored the man, and asked if there was a shuttle from Korriban to Nar Shaddaa. HK translated. "Let me see," the man said. He read over his display screen. "Well… there's no direct shuttle. Hasn't been one for a while. Looks like I can get you to—yeah, you'll have to take several connecting shuttles. I'd recommend Korriban to Manaan to Coruscant to Tatooine. From there, you should be able to pick up a Hutt shuttle to Nar Shaddaa."

"Query: How long will that take exactly?" HK asked.

"Given the shuttle's speed and the number of stops and connections you'll have to make? About three weeks."

Zaalbar grumbled. They didn't have three weeks. He asked if there was a quicker route, and the man said no. The shuttle from Korriban to Manaan was a left-over Sith route. Once on Manaan, they'd have to ride on Republic shuttles. "Republic shuttle routes don't travel to places like Korriban or Nar Shaddaa," the man said. "You're lucky they go to Tatooine. I say your only options are the shuttles or going to the Drunk Side and seeing if a pilot'll take you. But they'll charge a hefty fee, no doubt. Shuttle'll take longer, but it'll be cheaper."

Zaalbar now only had two hundred and fifty credits to his name. He asked how much the shuttle tickets were.

"There's a flat fee for non-humans and droids," the man said after HK translated. "Two hundred credits for you, two hundred and fifty for your droid. And that's per destination. Hutts charge double. And smugglers'll charge you anywhere from ten to twenty thousand for a direct flight. Maybe more."

Zaalbar huffed. So the shuttle was out, too. He thanked the man for his time, then started to walk away. Now what were they supposed to do? They were stranded on Korriban. Maybe he could go back to The Drunk Side and threaten to tear off a few limbs. That might get them free passage to Nar Shaddaa. Better yet, have HK do the threatening. No, that wasn't a good idea. HK would most likely get upset he couldn't actually kill anyone. He might even carry a threat too far.

The only thing to do was find a way to get on the passenger shuttle and take their chances. He remembered when Revan first landed on Taris with Carth; she had had no credits to her name. Yet between her and Carth, they had managed to get enough credits to buy an astromech droid. Maybe there was some work Zaalbar and HK could do to earn enough credits? But where would they work? The Drunk Side? They'd most likely get killed if they entered there again. There was a Czerka outpost on Korriban, but that was the absolute last resort. Czerka Corporation enslaved his people. Desperate times called for desperate measures, but working for a company that sanctioned slavery was last on his list of Thing To Do In My Lifetime.

Zaalbar turned to HK. He was about to open his mouth and tell the droid what he was thinking, when he spotted HK's blaster rifle. The Wookiee grinned.

"Threat: What are you looking at, furry meatsack?" HK snapped. "I do not approve of that smirk."

Zaalbar didn't answer. Instead he asked just how attached HK was to his rifle.


	5. Switching To Plan C

**Chapter Five:**** Switching To Plan C**

* * *

Now: 

"Infuriation: I will not sell my blaster rifle, you ungrateful, deceiving sack of meat!"

Zaalbar roared in HK-47's face. Did the droid _want_ to be stranded on Korriban for the rest of his life?

"Answer: If it means I get to keep my weapon, then yes!"

The Wookiee barked that HK didn't have a choice at this point, and that he promised to get HK a different, slightly cheaper rifle. When HK asked what kind, Zaalbar told him whatever Korriban's Czerka outpost had in stock that they could afford after shuttle fare. HK clearly wasn't pleased, but Zaalbar didn't really care. HK without a weapon put his mind at ease—slightly—anyway.

Zaalbar and HK entered the Czerka outpost and headed for the front desk. "Welcome to the Dreshdae Czerka Outpost!" a Czerka employee greeted. "How may I be of assistance?"

"Statement: I will not sell my blaster rifle!" HK-47 said. Zaalbar growled that yes, HK would. "Statement: But I like my blaster rifle!"

The Czerka employee looked suspiciously at the two. Zaalbar knew it wasn't exactly common for an assassination droid and Wookiee to be wandering around Korriban, but he also didn't appreciate the staring. "You wish to sell the droid's weapon?" the employee asked as if he was attempting to get his facts straight.

"Statement: It is mine!"

"I'm sure we could find an agreeable price," the employee said, his tone turning to all-business. "This looks like a Mandalorian-issued heavy blaster rifle. What's a droid doing with one of these anyway?"

HK's eyes narrowed in on the employee. "Explanation: To shoot pathetic, wasteful meatbags like yourself!"

The employee took a step backwards. "Uh…huh. Well, if it's blaster rifles you like, we do have an assortment for you to choose from. Perhaps you'll find another to your liking?"

Zaalbar interjected, asking how much HK's rifle was worth. When the Czerka employee gave the Wookiee a strange look, HK jumped in. "Translation: My furry companion, who wishes to do nothing but cause my mechanical life more pain and suffering, wants to know how much my lovely weapon is worth to this establishment. Warning: Should I not be pleased with the price, I will kill."

Zaalbar growled.

HK's mechanical voice took an angry tone. "Explanation: It is my rifle! It is only fair that if you have decided to sell it, that I approve of the price!" Zaalbar told the droid that it wasn't about finding a pleasing price; it was about getting enough credits to get a ride on the first shuttle off Korriban. "Infuriation," HK cried. "It is still my weapon! Mine, do you hear me? Mine!"

The Czerka employee coughed. "So, uh, how long have you two been married?" When Zaalbar and HK glared, he mumbled, "Never mind. Look, uh, let me just punch your rifle's information into our database, and we'll see just how much it's worth. The price is always negotiable… to an extent, you must understand."

Zaalbar looked at HK and reminded him they were doing this for Revan. "Statement: I realize that, Furball. But do not think I will forget this." The Wookiee shook his head and said he'd be sure to have Revan get HK another blaster.

The Czerka employee began punching in the information on HK's blaster into the computer. "So you like Mandalorian-issued rifles?" he asked.

"Answer," HK said. "This one suits me just fine." He turned and glared at Zaalbar. "Correction: Suited me just fine."

"Where did you get it?" the man asked.

"Answer: It was given to me by a Mandalorian."

"Really?" the Czerka man asked. "Are you a Mandalorian protocol droid?"

"Negative. I was built by my Master when Master was a Sith."

Under his breath, the Czerka man muttered, "That explains it." He waited as the computer searched for price results. "Did you hear that the Mandalorians are gathering again?" he asked, trying to make small-talk.

Zaalbar looked at the man and shook his head no. "Query," HK said. "Where are they meeting?"

"The Onderon moon Dxun, I hear," the Czerka man said. "Course, that's just a rumor. One of them started rallying the troops apparently, finding all the Mandalorians that survived the war."

Zaalbar stopped to think. Dxun was the old headquarters of the Mandalorians during the Mandalorian War. Now they were gathering there once again? He vaguely remembered Revan saying something about telling Canderous he'd make an excellent leader for his people. Could Canderous be on Dxun, or at the very least headed there? Zaalbar asked where the man was getting his information. The Czerka employee waited for HK to translate, then answered. "Spacers. They come here, lookin' for stuff to buy. That's why I said it's all a rumor. Could be right, could be wrong. You know how spacers and rumors are—Hey, computer's done." The man hit a few buttons on the screen. "According to our database, your droid's blaster is worth 500 credits."

"Outrage: 500 credits!" HK leaned into the man's face. "I think you need to re-check that computer read-out screen, useless meatsack!"

Zaalbar ignored HK. If they were indeed traveling to Nar Shaddaa, a Wookiee and a droid would most likely be treated like dirt, possibly ignored, kidnapped, and sold as slaves. Canderous would be the best person to help them. He was a former bounty hunter for the Exchange, after all. If anyone had connections in the smuggling and bounty-hunting world, it was Canderous. Maybe he even knew this Simer. And perhaps Canderous even had a ship? That would certainly save on shuttle fare. Then HK wouldn't have to sell his rifle. There had to be a way to send a message to Dxun and, at the very least, try to make contact with the former Mandalorian mercenary. He doubted the Czerka employee knew Dxun's contact frequency. But if the rumors were true, it wouldn't be that hard to track down the old Mandalorian Headquarters frequency code, would it?

"Uh, Mr. Wookiee? You mind calling your droid off?"

Zaalbar looked down and saw HK aiming his rifle at the Czerka employee. He roared for HK to lower his gun.

"Protest: This meatbag is attempting to rip me off!"

The Wookiee rolled his eyes, then assured the droid that as much as he hated Czerka, the man wasn't low-balling them on the price. Zaalbar added that if his new idea worked, perhaps they wouldn't have to sell HK's rifle just yet. The droid happily lowered his weapon, and the man visibly relaxed. Zaalbar then asked the man how he could send a message to Dxun.

"Any of the holonet monitors on the far wall," the Czerka man said after HK translated. "It's ten credits for the first half hour to browse the holonet, five credits after that."

Zaalbar thanked the man, then grabbed HK's arm and dragged him away. When HK inquired what they were doing, the Wookiee answered he was going to contact Canderous… or at least attempt to. He explained to HK his reasons, but they didn't seem to matter to the droid.

"Contentment," HK said. "This new plan is wise, especially since I get to keep my weapon. I approve. Statement: I do miss the Mandalorian meatbag. His art always went unappreciated. It upset me that Master did not choose him to mate with. The whiny meatbag was never a good suitor. I believe she has realized that, albeit too late. And that is a shame."

Zaalbar sat down in front of the holonet monitor, paid his fee, then did a search for all news stories related to Mandalorians gathering on Dxun. He mentally noted it would have been much easier and faster had T3 been with them.

"Optimistic: If the Mandalorian were to join us on our quest to find Master, it could prove to be easier," HK said. "Not that I frown upon our team. You did a wonderful job threatening that meatbag back at the cantina. I only wished there was more blood."

Zaalbar clicked away on the holonet's interface, reading every recent story about the Mandalorians he could find.

"It would be wonderful if the Mandalorian joined us," HK continued. "Observation: We would be the Trifecta of Violence! Ooh, my circuits vibrate with excitement and anticipation!"

After searching for a while, Zaalbar thought he had found at least one promising lead on the Czerka employee's rumor. After some more digging using techniques Mission taught him and tracking advice from HK-47, the Wookiee found what might be a contact frequency for Dxun. He had to send something to Canderous about the current situation. But what would he say? What if someone who wasn't Canderous intercepted the message? What if it was the wrong frequency altogether? Zaalbar turned to HK to ask his opinion, then stopped. The Wookiee smiled.

"Observation: That's the second time you have looked at me with that expression on your face," HK said. "I am beginning to dislike it."

* * *

The holonet interface inside the main building began to beep. A young Mandalorian warrior approached the interface and pressed the button to hear the message. The interfaced beeped back, and the young man frowned. He turned and saw their leader, an older, muscular, gray-haired man, approaching. "What is it?" their leader asked. 

"I…I'm not sure, sir," the young man said. "We received a message, but I can't open it. It's coded for voice recognition."

"Who's it for?"

The young man punched a few more buttons, then blinked. "For the Mandalorian… meat…bag?"

Their leader showed recognition on his face. The phrase 'Mandalorian Meatbag' obviously meant something to him. He reached over to the interface and pressed a button. "Canderous Ordo."

The screen beeped, paused, then cleared. An image of a copper droid's head appeared.

"Greetings: Hello, Mandalorian meatbag! Statement: The furball and I are on Korriban and in dire need your assistance. Explanation: Master has unexpectedly run away. The furball and I believe we know where Master is headed, although we seriously doubt she wishes to be found."

Their leader frowned. "She ran away?"

"Do you know them, sir?" the young man asked. "The Master they spoke of. Is she a fellow Mandalorian?"

"Supplication: We would welcome any assistance you can provide," HK's message continued, "especially transportation. The furry meatbag wishes to sell the blaster rifle you gave me to pay for shuttle fare in order to go after Master. I would rather be in service to a pacifist. Optimism: I look forward to hearing from you so that we can go after Master, and inquire why she has run away… and so that I may keep my rifle. Request: Please reply on this frequency. We shall be checking as long as our credits last."

The message ended. Their leader stood silent for a few minutes, then said: "Send a reply. Let them know I'm heading to Korriban immediately." He turned to walk away.

"Sir!" the young man said. "You're… leaving? But who are these people? With all due respect, you can't leave. You're needed here. Who is so important that you would abandon us—"

He stopped, his eyes narrowing. "Questioning my orders?"

The young man gulped. "N-no sir."

"Good. Send the message."


	6. Memories

**Chapter Six: Memories**

* * *

Now: 

Liana's conscience had been nagging her ever since _Gambit_ reached hyperspace. Part of her was happy to be starting her life over, but part of her wasn't willing to let go. She still cared about the people she loved. Was it fair to Mission that she left? Or Zaalbar? Liana's head began to hurt just thinking about it. She had excused herself from the cockpit and gone back to her bunk to lie down, hoping some quiet would help calm her mind. But it was no use. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Mission either glaring at her or whimpering to Zaalbar. Maybe if Liana hadn't been in such a hurry to get the hell out of the valley, she could have thought rationally about her decision to leave.

_What's there to think rationally about? Carth told me to leave. And I did. _

Liana wiped away a tear. Her only regret was not saying goodbye to the others she loved.

"We'll be on Nar Shaddaa in a few hours."

Liana turned to her left and saw Nal standing in the doorway. "Thanks," she said.

"Hungry?" he asked, pointing behind him with his thumb. "I've got some food on board."

The last thing her stomach needed was food. "I'm okay," she said. "Thanks."

"You sure?" he asked. Liana nodded. "Headache still bothering you?"

"I'll be fine," she answered. "Just need some rest."

"Kay. If you need anything, just let me know." Nal turned and walked away.

Alone again, Liana sighed. She stared straight up at the ceiling. Why had everything come crashing down, and so quickly? Was Carth right? Was she really turning into that evil monster again? He'd told her just months ago that she had to trust herself not to fall. And she had… or at least she thought she had. But thing were different inside the tomb…

Why was she spending time dwelling on this? Carth made it clear he didn't want her in his life anymore.

"_You're a monster! I never want to see you again!" _

Those were his exact words. Liana told herself not to shed any more tears at his expense. But that didn't always work.

She grabbed a pillow and hugged it tightly against her chest. What in the galaxy possessed her to think that a group field trip to Korriban in search of Dustil was a good idea? She thought back to the conversation she and Carth had back on Citadel Station, back when everything was still right…

* * *

One Month Prior: 

"You think my son's on Korriban?" Carth asked, pacing the living room. "What makes you think—"

"He's clearly not here," Revan said, walking over to his side. "You've checked the passenger logs, had T3 do picture ID checks, everything you could think of to locate Dustil. And you've come back empty. I've even tried meditating to see if I can feel Dustil's presence through the Force. Flyboy, I think he never made it off Korriban. That's the only answer."

"But what if he did?" he asked. "What if Dustil went somewhere else? There's got to be something I'm missing!"

_You're missing me_, she thought. The entire time they'd been on Citadel station, Carth had spent every waking moment searching for his son. He had taken T3 with him practically everywhere, leaving no corner of the massive metal complex unexplored, while Revan stayed home. She'd offered many times to accompany Carth, but he insisted on doing things alone. _So much for doing things together. I came here to help. So far all I've done is shop and stare at the walls._

"He said he'd meet me here," Carth said, continuing to pace. "Why hasn't he contacted me? Where could he be?"

Patiently, Revan said, "I still believe the answers are on Korriban. We can check the passenger logs there. Maybe Dustil did, in fact, take a shuttle somewhere else instead. Maybe he went to Coruscant, or Tatooine, or who knows where. I don't know why he would if he clearly told you he'd meet you here. But Carth, we've got to try. You've been so focused on finding him, you can't simply give up."

The Republic Commodore sat down on a sofa in the center of their living quarters. Revan sat down next to him and placed her hand on his shoulder. "I…" He sighed. "I just want to see my son again. It's been so long."

"I know, Flyboy," she whispered, sitting down next to him. "The entire time we've been here you've devoted all your energy to finding Dustil and hoping he'll still turn up."

"It's a big station. He's got to be somewhere."

Revan smiled. "You've been off looking for him alone almost every day."

Carth face fell. He looked at her with both realization and sadness in his eyes. "I've completely ignored you, haven't I? The entire time we've been here?" Revan paused, then sadly nodded. "I've spent so much time—"

"It's okay," she said.

"No, it's not okay." He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees and buried his head in his hands. "I've completely ignored—"

"We came here to find Dustil, remember? We didn't come here for a holiday." Gently, Revan rubbed the palm of her hand up and down his spine. "You can't give up now. As much as I don't want to go to back to the Sith world, it's our only option right now."

"We've gotta try," he whispered. Carth looked at her. "You're willing to follow me on a Wild Bantha chase to find my son, even though I've ignored you?"

Revan smiled. "To the ends of the universe and back." Gently she brushed her fingers against his temple.

"Thank you, Beautiful," he said. "This… This means a lot."

She smiled. "We'll find him, Carth. Don't worry."

* * *

Now: 

Mission Vao sat alone in the Citadel Station Hospital Waiting Area. Although she had won five pazaak games in a row on her electric handheld game, she didn't feel like celebrating. There was nothing to celebrate. All she could do was wait. She wasn't even sure what she was waiting for. News on Dustil's condition, word from Zaalbar that they had found Revan, information as to why Carth suddenly despised everything that concerned Revan…

The teenager looked at her astromech droid companion. With tears in her eyes, she asked, "Did we do something wrong, T3?"

T3-M4 sadly beeped that he didn't believe so.

"But I still feel horrible," she said. "I wish Zaalbar were here. Then I'd have someone to talk to." She stopped. "I mean, not that I don't like talking to you, T3."

T3 beeped that he understood.

"I wish I had gone with Big Z and HK. I know Big Z said it was dangerous, and I'd be safer with Carth and you…" Mission sighed and began to mindlessly swing her legs back and forth. "I keep thinkin' about everything that happened, you know?" She looked down the Hospital's hall towards Dustil's room. "All I keep thinking is all the stuff Carth said. Revan wouldn't've hurt Dustil. Never." She looked at T3. "Would she?"

T3 was angry that Mission would even think of asking him that question.

"Yeah, I know," she whispered. Mission's headtails drooped. She hadn't seen Carth since they arrived at the hospital. He'd been short with her on the _Ebon Hawk_ the entire ride from Korriban to Citadel Station. Short and angry, screaming at her over everything she did. Normally Mission would talk back and stand up for herself, but there was a fire in Carth's eyes she'd never seen before. She had lived with him on Coruscant per Revan's request, and had found herself looking up to him as a father figure. Carth had never shown any hostility towards her, and had never yelled or snapped at her before. But his current attitude made her uncomfortable. The way he glared at her made her feel horrible, and for the first time since she'd met him, Mission was scared of Carth. And the worst part was, she had no idea why he was being so cold and cruel.

Mission, Zaalbar, HK-47, and T3-M4 had accompanied Carth and Revan to Korriban. When Carth's search of the passenger logs did not turn up any sign of Dustil, Revan had used the Force to try to find him. Mission remembered sitting with Zaalbar when Revan announced she had located him.

"_The Valley of the Sith Lords," Revan said, entering the common room. She had been meditating in her bunk while the others waited. "He's in the Shyrack Cave… Somewhere deep inside. That's… That's where he is."_

_Carth stood up and looked at her. "Are you sure? What's he doing there?"_

"_I… I don't know," she said. "But he's there, Carth. I… I can feel him."_

"_Isn't that where all the dead Sith Lords are?" Mission asked. She suddenly felt a chill run down her spine and stepped closer to Zaalbar._

"_Beautiful, are… are you sure?" Carth raked his fingers through his hair. "When we left him at the Academy, he said he was—"_

"_I can't give you any answers," she sadly said. "Can you fly the _Ebon Hawk_ to the Valley? I don't want us taking the short cut through the Academy. That's not something I plan on re-living." _

_Carth nodded. "Zaalbar," he said, then gestured for the Wookiee to follow him to the cockpit. _

"_You mean we're actually going there?" Mission asked, stepping towards her Jedi friend. "But didn't you tell me last time we were here that the valley is nothing but the Dark Side of the Force?" Revan sadly smiled, and the teenager knew she was right. "But I—"_

"_It'll be okay," Revan said. "I know you're scared—"_

"_I'm not scared," Mission said. "I ain't ever been scared. I fought with you on the Star Forge, remember?" Revan smiled again. "I'm just… worried. I'm no Jedi and I never met Dustil, but him being in the middle of the Valley… that can't be good."_

_Revan bit her lip and looked towards the cockpit. She then turned back to Mission. "No, it's not," she whispered. "I'm worried about him, too." _

Mission remembered Carth flying in the _Ebon Hawk_ directly to the Valley, and insisted on accompanying Revan, even when she pinpointed Dustil's location. Revan had been adamant in her insistence Carth stay behind, stating it was too dangerous. But the stubborn commodore wouldn't listen. She remembered standing with Zaalbar and the droids in the _Ebon Hawk's _common room, listening to Carth and Revan argue.

Against Revan's better judgment, they left together in search of Dustil, while the others sat outside the Shyrack Cave and waited. Mission had been nervous the entire time. She could understand why Carth was so insistent on going with Revan, but at the same time felt he should have listened to Revan. An hour later, Revan emerged from the cave on her own, running as fast as she could away from everyone. Carth came out minutes later, Dustil's limp body in his arms, with no answer or care as to where Revan was going.

"I just wish I knew what happened," Mission softly said. A tear rolled down her cheek. "I wanna know why Carth's actin' like this. I wanna know why Revan ran away." She pulled her legs up and hugged her knees. "I'm scared, T3. I want Big Z. I want Revan." Mission wiped her tears away with the palm of her hand. "I want anyone right now but Carth."

T3 nudged Mission's foot, and beeped he was there for her.

"Thanks, T3," she whispered.


	7. Assembling The Team

**Chapter Seven: Assembling The Team**

* * *

Now: 

Zaalbar and HK-47 sat near the landing pad at Dreshdae watching a freighter the size of a shuttle land. They had received a message from Canderous stating he would be heading to Korriban. That was two days ago. Zaalbar and HK had spent their time over the last two days avoiding the Drunk Side as much as possible, only entering the cantina when it was time for one of Zaalbar's eight meals a day. And even then, the Wookiee ate as fast as he could before trouble arose. In between eating, Zaalbar and HK wandered around Dreshdae, taking in the limited sights. When they weren't doing that, the two were sitting near the landing dock, waiting for Canderous to arrive. The most entertaining part of the past two days was playing the game HK invented where the object was to guess how long passing Korriban citizens would last in a fight with Zaalbar before the droid blasted them.

As the ship finished its landing sequence and power-down, the small hatch door on the side of the ship opened. Zaalbar paid little attention to the shuttle, until he heard: "Hey Wookiee, what's this about you wanting to sell the rifle I gave the droid?"

Zaalbar looked up and saw Canderous standing at the base of the just-landed shuttle's ramp. He roared that it was about time the Mandalorian showed up.

"Appalled Statement," HK said, standing up and not bothering to translate. "The furball insisted on selling my blaster rifle for shuttle fare! Have you ever heard of anything so low and deceitful?" Zaalbar groaned and reminded HK that it had been their only option. "Correction: _You_ said it was our only option. I did not."

Canderous waved Zaalbar and HK over. "Come inside," he said. "I want to discuss this message you sent."

Right down to business, as always, Zaalbar noted. He and HK walked over to Canderous's small ship and headed inside. The shuttle appeared to only have one large room, with the cockpit at the far end, and an open area with a bed, a refresher, and open space. "Query: Where did you acquire this vessel?" HK asked. "Observation: The Ebon Hawk's cargo bay was bigger than this."

"Second-hand piece of junk, but it gets me where I want go," Canderous answered. When Zaalbar and HK were both inside, he closed the hatch. "So, this message—"

Zaalbar smacked his head on a crossbeam and let out a loud roar.

"Yeah, I smacked my head on that, too, a couple of times. Me and that crossbeam have an understanding now: I don't hit it and it doesn't hit me." Canderous bent over, made his way to a chair and sat down.

"Observation: It is rather spectacular neither of you managed to dent the crossbeam," HK said. Zaalbar snorted at the droid, rubbed his forehead, then had a seat across from the ship's Captain.

"So what's this about Revan runnin' off?" Canderous asked. "She catch Carth with a Twi'lek dancer? And what the hell are the two of you doin' stranded on Korriban?"

With a painful snort, Zaalbar proceeded to fill Canderous in on everything he'd missed, starting with the Jedi Council forbidding Revan to leave the Jedi Temple. While HK helped translate here and there, the Wookiee told Canderous about moving to Citadel Station, Carth searching for Dustil, Revan's suggesting Dustil never left Korriban, and the last few moments leading up to Revan's departure.

"And you have no idea what happened inside the Shyrack Cave?" Canderous asked when HK finished translating. Zaalbar shook his head no.

"Recollection: It appeared that Master was in a great hurry," HK said. "She did not say where she was going, and she was running too fast for anyone to ask or catch up with her."

"What about Carth?"

"Answer: When the whiny meatsack was questioned, he responded most negatively."

"What did he say?"

"Recording." Carth's voice sounded from HK's voice filter. "I don't give a Sith's ass where she goes! Either get on the frackin' ship or stay the frack here!"

Canderous was taken aback. "That doesn't sound like the Republic we all know." Zaalbar sadly moaned.

"Statement: He had been acting different from his usual whiny self after emerging from the cave. He was ninety point forty-five percent more hostile than usual. I suspect that is a factor in Master's disappearance." HK mechanically sighed. "Statement: Why Master would prefer to smash her squishy parts to that simpering Republic meatsack's corresponding components makes my capacitors rust while attempting to compute that fact. As I said to the furball, you, Mandalorian, would have been a much better mate for Master's messy meatbag needs."

Canderous stoically stared at the droid, then decided to change the subject. "Did Revan do something to Dustil?" He reached into the footlocker beside his chair and pulled out a bottle. "You said Carth carried him, and he looked like he was dead. That's the only reason I could see Carth actin' that way. He's real protective of his Sith kid." He took a drink—which Zaalbar assumed to be some sort of alcoholic substance—then rested the bottle on the floor.

Zaalbar shrugged his shoulders as HK said, "Answer: We are not fully certain if Master played a role in the offspring's injuries. The Blue Twi'lek and the portable trash compactor accompanied the whiny meatsack back to Citadel Station. We have had no contact with them, even though they were supposed to send us a message. We are assuming they have since made it to Citadel Station, and assuming they are at the Medical Facility seeing to the offspring's injuries. We would have contacted the Republic Embassy on Citadel Station to confirm our assumptions, but did not have the credits to do so."

"The more I think about it, is it wise leaving Mission with Carth?" Canderous asked. "Not that I suspect Carth would harm the girl, but if you're accurately describing Republic's current state of mind and attitude, it might be better—"

Zaalbar softly moaned. "Translation," HK said. "The furball felt the blue Twi'lek would be safer on Citadel Station than wandering about Korriban looking for Master. They argued, but she eventually agreed to go with the whiny meatsack."

"Guess with Mish there, someone can keep an eye on Carth and keep us updated." Canderous raked his fingers through his hair. "All right. So our job is to find Revan… then do what?"

"Answer: She is my Master. I must return to her side and serve her. And the furball has sworn a life debt to her, and must do the same. The two of us are stuck together for the rest of our lives and usefulness."

The room fell silent. Canderous looked back and forth between HK and Zaalbar. "So that's it?" he asked. "You called me all the way out here so you two can just stand at her side?"

"Affirmative."

"No," he said. "No, we're going to find her, and we're going to get some answers. I don't like her running off without tellin' anybody where's she's gone, and this situation seems awfully strange, even for her." When Zaalbar asked what would happen afterwards, Canderous answered, "I don't know. We'll figure that out when we find her. She'll always have a home with the Mandalorian clans." He paused. "Okay. So tell me what you know about where you think she's headed. In your message, you said you had information?"

"Answer: The pudgy meatsack at the cantina that the furball threatened was most helpful," HK said.

"The furball threatened?"

"Affirmative," HK said. "Statement: We believe she is traveling with a meatbag known as 'Simer'. According to—"

"Nal Simer?" Canderous asked. "Former employee of Bochaba the Hutt and Davik Kang?"

"Query: Do you know him?"

"Met him once briefly," Canderous said. "He did some odd jobs for Davik. Last job he did, he got pulled over by Republic police. Dumped his cargo before he got boarded. Pissed Davik off. After that, Davik hired Calo Nord. Said Simer would never work again." Canderous shook his head. "At least we don't have to worry about who she's traveling with." When Zaalbar gave Canderous an odd look, the former Exchange Bounty Hunter explained. "Simer's a wimp. Ever since Davik, the man only takes simple, low-paying jobs, and plays it by the book. Wouldn't hurt a Tatooine sandfly, even if his life depended on it. He's also suspicious of everyone ever since his partner betrayed him. All qualities Revan finds alluring in her men." He took a swig of the alcohol in his hand. "If she's travelin' with him, it's Simer we should be more worried about. Revan'd kick his ass if he tried anything funny. Bet this piece of junk Simer doesn't know who she is." He took another swig of his drink. "So what else do you know?"

"Answer," HK said. "We believe they are headed to Nar Shaddaa in a vessel called _Gambit_, a standard Corellian smuggling ship, model number YT-2000."

"Sounds like Pretty Boy's back in business," Canderous said. "Do we know where on Nar Shaddaa they're headed?"

"Negative."

"Nar Shaddaa's an awfully big place."

"Answer: Another reason you were contacted."

"Do you have his ship's ID signature?"

"Negative."

"Figures. That would make it easy." Canderous took one last drink, then put the bottle away. "Well, a general idea is better than no idea at all." He stood up and headed for the cockpit. "Let's get going, gentlemen."

"Query: Is it wise to fly this shuttle while intoxicated? Computing the amount of alcohol you have consumed along with your height and mass—"

"It takes a lot more than three gulps of that stuff to get me drunk," he said. "And if you're gonna keep talkin' about Carth, I'm gonna keep drinkin'."

HK paused, then said, "Statement: I shall refrain from talking about the whiny meatsack."

"You do that," Canderous said.

"Statement: The last time you were intoxicated, you engaged in a staring contest with a gizka. I do not wish to witness a repeat of that event."

"That was after nine drinks of Tarisian ale," Canderous pointed out. "And there are no gizka on board, so I can't stare at 'em." He looked at Zaalbar. "I need a co-pilot. You up for the job?" The Wookiee nodded. "Good. Let's go."_  
_

* * *

_Big thanks to Jiara for HK's wonderfulistic line!_


	8. Nar Shaddaa

**Chapter Eight: Nar Shaddaa  
**

* * *

Now: 

"Welcome to the criminal haven of the galaxy," Nal said as he landed _Gambit_ on one of Nar Shaddaa's many landing docks. "You won't find a planet with more pollutants in the air." Nal paused. "Or people with death sentences."

Liana looked at Nal. "You sure do know how to show a girl a good time."

"Yeah, well, I try," he replied. "Don't know how much you know about Nar Shaddaa, but we're in the Corellian Sector now." He flipped a few buttons on the control panel in front of him. "The Exchange runs the refugee sector. Hutts pretty much run everything else. This sector, however, is where crime runs rampant… more so than other places." As _Gambit_ powered down, he stood up and headed towards the exit. "Just stick close and follow me. The place we're goin' to can get pretty rough."

Liana stood up and followed. "I can handle myself in a fight, if that's what you're asking."

"Of that I have no doubt, seeing that you may have killed Davik," Nal said. "His death takes a great deal of pressure off my back." He stopped. "Oh, just… just one thing."

"What?"

"I told my contact I was coming alone," Nal said. "So…"

Liana smiled. "Don't worry. I won't be a problem."

* * *

Zaalbar let out another loud roar of pain as he hit his head on the low overhang near the cockpit of Canderous's ship and stumbled backwards. 

"Look," the Mandalorian said, looking over his shoulder, "if you're going to let out a howl every time you hit your frackin' head, this is gonna be a really rough trip." Zaalbar sneered at him. Canderous turned back around towards the control panel. "Not my fault they breed you Wookiees so tall."

HK piped up. "Suggestion: Perhaps if I hack the furball's legs off at the kneecaps, the height problem will be resolved?"

Zaalbar growled at HK, threatening to shut the droid off.

"No, HK," Canderous said. "That would just lead to a massive-amount-of-blood-gushing-around-my-ship-with-a-possible-dead-Wookiee problem that I really don't feel like dealing with."

"Clarification: It was only a suggestion," HK said to Zaalbar. "There is no need for you to become hostile."

The Wookiee, still rubbing his head, glared.

Canderous glanced at Zaalbar. "Send that message to Mission yet?" The Wookiee shook his head no. Canderous jabbed a thumb toward the panel behind him. "Communication console's right there. Go for it."

Zaalbar got up and headed for the panel, hitting his head for the fifth time in as many minutes.

"Statement: The Mandalorian and I appear to have no difficulties navigating our way around this vessel. And I do agree it is your own fault for being bred for height. It is a fact that you will continue to strike your fur-covered cranium on various metal objects on board, so there is no point in complaining or drawing attention to that fact."

Zaalbar roared.

"HEY!" Canderous snapped. "This tin can's going to take us a long time to get to Nar Shaddaa from here! The two of you can either behave yourselves or get shoved out an airlock! It's your choice!"

The ship fell silent.

Canderous snorted. "That's better."

* * *

Liana and Nal stepped off the docking bay elevator and onto the main streets of Nar Shaddaa. Liana looked around and noted many of the tall buildings were in shambles, and looked as if they'd come crashing down at any second. The crowded streets were filled with liter and grease stains, and a foul stench filled the air. The area was also dark, even though it was the middle of the day. Liana looked up and saw thick, pollution-filled black clouds in the sky, possibly the reason why the sun wasn't shining down. "Taris after the Sith destroyed it looked better than this place," she said. 

"Not all planets can look and smell like Alderaan," Nal said. "Stick close. We've got a while to walk. Oh, and, uh, watch your step. We're a couple thousand feet up."

"Couldn't park closer?"

"The fare on that dock is cheaper than everywhere else."

"Cheapskate."

Nal smiled. "That's why I need this job, sweetheart. And you're already gettin' fifteen percent."

Nal and Liana walked in relative silence for about an hour before he suggested they stop to get something to eat. He said he knew of a local diner with the best Corellian food in the sector. She asked about their time schedule and appointment with whoever they were to meet with. "Plenty of time," he answered. "They're not expecting me for another couple of hours."

They entered the Dark Moon Diner and sat at the far corner of the countertop bar. The place was filled with patrons like themselves, grabbing a bite to eat in between jobs. Nal and Liana ordered, and their food arrived fairly quickly. "Patrons have a habit of blasting waiters if their food doesn't come in a timely fashion," Nal explained. "Dig in. Grub here's good."

Liana looked down at her plate. "I ordered Corellian Eggbird and steamed vegetables."

"And that's what you got," Nal said.

"What's this sauce all over my food?"

"Gravy, looks like."

"Shouldn't it be brown?"

"You don't like gravy?"

"Not when it's florescent green."

Nal reached over with his finger and scooped some of her gravy. He licked his finger clean, then nodded. "Tastes fine to me."

Liana closed her eyes, shook her head. She picked up her fork. "So this job."

"New rule," Nal said, shoving a forkful of meat into his mouth. He then propped his elbow up on the table and began waving his fork back and forth. "No talkie about work while eating." Small pieces of food flew out the sides of his mouth.

_It's like watching Canderous eat_, Liana thought, turning her attention back to her glowing meal. She poked the food with her fork. "I think it's radioactive."

Nal shrugged. "You could always pull a local and shoot the chef."

"That's quite all right." Carefully, Liana ate her meal. It tasted about as good as it looked, but she was starving. "I really am interested in this job," she said between painful bites, "regardless of your last-second rule." She noticed several bottles of condiments on the counter-top and reached for them. Liana wasn't quite sure what they were, but anything was better than gravy that tasted like fodder.

"Well, I can't answer any questions you got stored up in that pretty little head of yours," he answered, "and for good reason."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Nal smiled. "I don't know what the job is."

Liana snorted. "Why does that not surprise me?"

"Just eat your glowing meal," he said. "After we finish, it's right to the boss man himself. And, uh, you'll have to wait outside."

Liana's eyes twinkled. "As I said before, Simer, I won't be a problem."

"You say that with such confidence."

"Because I am confident."

Nal snorted. "Yeah, well, we'll see about that."

* * *

One of the Citadel Station Hospital protocol droid's walked across the visitor's room to a blue, teenage Twi'lek and her astromech droid. "Excuse me," the droid asked, "are you Miss Mission Vao?" 

Mission looked up at the silver protocol droid in front of her. The droid looked similar to the ones she had seen on Dantooine so many months ago, right down to the sideways head-movements when it spoke. "Yes," she answered.

"There is a message for you at the desk's courtesy communications terminal," the droid said. "It was forwarded to us from the Republic Embassy."

The teenager was puzzled. "A message? From who?"

"According to the Republic Embassy, a person named Zaalbar."

Mission leapt to her feet. "C'mon, T3. Maybe they found her!" T3 beeped with joy. The two followed the protocol droid to the front counter, where he punched up the message on the display screen for the Twi'lek to read.

_Hello, Mission. I'm hoping this message makes it to you. HK-47 and I have met up with Canderous. We have a lead, and are currently en route to Nar Shaddaa. Please contact me on this frequency. Hope all is well on Citadel Station. –Zaalbar_

"Nar Shaddaa?" Mission whispered. She looked down at T3. "They found Canderous, and are going to Nar Shaddaa." She turned towards the protocol droid. "Can I send a reply message on this terminal?"

"Of course, Miss Vao," the droid replied. "This is a courtesy communications terminal. Since you are guests of Commodore Onasi, there will be no charge."

"Thank you," Mission said. She punched up the reply screen and began typing away.

_Big Z, I got your message. Heading to Nar Shaddaa? And where did you find Canderous? Things aren't so hot here. Dustil's still in a coma, and I haven't seen Carth since we got here. Keep me up-to-date on what's going on. Miss you, big guy. Mission._


	9. Five Hundred

**Chapter Nine: Five Hundred**

* * *

Now: 

"This is the place," Nal Simer said, double-checking the address. "Gioco's Casino and Cantina."

"A casino," Liana said. "How original."

"It's an honest business," he assured. "Well, in the front room. Gotta keep up appearances. The backroom…that's another matter." Liana rolled her eyes. "Come on. I'll show you around this hole-in-the-wall." They started to enter the front door when Nal stopped. "Not to sound… well, I know you say you can handle yourself in a fight, and probably rip me a new one faster than I can spit. But it might be best if you stick as close to me as possible, and don't look anyone in the eye."

"You trying to say—"

"I'm not trying to say anything," he said. "I'm telling you flat out. Had I known I'd be employing a female partner—with a big emphasis on female—I wouldn't've agreed to this job from this man."

"Don't worry," she said.

He snorted. "That's what they all say."

Nal and Liana entered Gioco's. The casino was large, filled with rows and rows of pazaak tables and gambling machines. True to Nal's word, Liana instantly felt waves of hostility, greed, despair, lust, and countless others. She tried to block the feelings, but it proved to be difficult… especially when the men giving off the feelings of lust and passion were the ones whistling at her. She rolled her eyes and kept walking.

"Warned you," Nal said.

If the drunks were all Nal was worried about, then he didn't know her very well. Of course, Nal didn't know who she was at all. If he knew his partner was the former Dark Lord of the Sith, he wouldn't be so concerned. Well, maybe he would; He'd just be concerned in a very different way.

They weaved their way through the casino; Either Nal was lost or he was doing this on purpose. As they past a few gambling machines, Nal nodded towards people he recognized, using descriptors such as "notorious," "hostile," and "smells funny." But as they past a rather decrepit-looking man, Nal stopped. "That's Larston," he said in a hushed voice. "Only person in this place I feel sorry for."

Liana looked at the man. "Oh?"

"He used to be one of the best smugglers in the business," Nal said. "Struck it rich, retired from smuggling, got married, had a couple kids. Moved to Telos to settle there." His voice became somber. "Larston survived Admiral Karath's bombing by the hair on his back. His family didn't. Wife, kids… all died when their house was hit directly by blaster fire. He moved here and Mandalorian hard liquor became his new best friend. Credit by credit he's gambled his whole fortune away. And judging by his current state, he's no doubt homeless."

Liana stared at the man as if to memorize him. _That could have been Carth,_ she thought. _Depressed, alone, drunk, broke… _Her heart went out to the man. She knew Telos had affected millions of people, but Carth was the only one she knew personally. She knew the desperation Larston must have felt, and most likely continued to feel. Had she and Carth not been as close, had he not opened up to her and allowed himself to love again, Carth might have turned into the man before her…

Liana closed her eyes. _Why does everything always come back to Carth? Why can't I stop thinking about him?_

"Come on, let's go," Nal said, "before he bugs us for credits."

As they walked past Larston, Liana casually waved a hand at the machine, just as he pulled the handle. A few seconds later bells rang and whistles blew. She smiled, and continued to follow her partner.

"Huh," Nal said. "Sounds like someone struck it rich."

"Sounds like," she said.

"Only wish it was me."

They headed directly for the back wall, and reached what appeared to be the door to the kitchen. Nal stopped at the door, then turned to Liana. "This is where it gets interesting," he said. "I can't stress enough for you to watch your step."

_I've killed Dark Jedi more dangerous than these people_, Liana thought. _Besides, this crime lord can't possibly be anymore dangerous than Davik Kang or Calo Nord._ She just smiled at Nal and said nothing.

"Sure I can't talk you out of it?" he asked.

"I'm sure."

"Okay then." Nal turned back towards the door. He knocked once, then twice, then four times. A few seconds later, three knocks were heard coming from the other side of the door. "Here we go."

Upon entering the room, Liana had to admit that Nal's concern was well deserved. She felt the presence of six men, two Wookiees, and two Twi'leks, possibly all armed guards. She felt the same emotions inside as she did in the casino, with the exception that hostility and lust were stronger. Liana was almost knocked back due to the overpowering feelings, and she did admit she felt concerned. At least for a moment. When she looked forward at what she assumed was the man Nal came to see, she noticed the Twi'leks she sensed through the Force were two half-naked females cuddling and petting a rather tough-looking, bald human male. Liana felt sick.

The bald man looked at Nal and smiled. "Nalbert Simer, you ol' smuggler!" the man said. "Come here, come here! I've been expecting you!"

Nal nodded. "Wayt."

Wayt noticed Liana and grinned. "Who's the girl, and why is she wearing so much clothing?" Lust emanated from this man, and Liana could only guess what he was thinking. She glared back and wondered if now was a good time to admit to Nal she had two lightsabers concealed in her vest pockets.

"This is my partner," Nal said. "And she's off limits."

Liana could venture a guess at what 'off limits' meant.

Wayt raised an eyebrow. "You? A partner? And female?"

"We're here to discuss a job, not my partner," Nal firmly said. "And anything you say to me can be said in front of her." Liana sensed Nal's need to protect her double. Wayt was a sleazy, sexist crime lord, there was no doubt, yet she had met crazed Selkath that were more threatening. But maybe for Nal's sake and well-being, she should have stayed outside like he requested.

Wayt didn't look happy, but nodded. "It's a simple job, I assure you." He clapped his hands and the half-naked Twi'leks stood up and left. He gestured for Nal and Liana to approach. "Have a seat." They did as requested. "I called you here today, Simer, because of a job. Course, you know that." He leaned back in his chair and pressed his fingers together like a steeple. "You familiar with the medicine known as kolto?"

"Isn't everyone?" Nal asked.

Wayt nodded. "As you may or may not be aware of, it seems the Republic Embassy on Manaan was doubling as a kolto harvesting operation. That is, until, one of their fuel tanks overloaded."

Liana suddenly felt nervous.

"It's rumored," Wayt continued, "that the Republic paid the Selkath Government a hefty fee to secretly harvest kolto for themselves. As a result, the Republic had a plethora of kolto at their disposal. But now, thanks to the disaster, the Selkath Government is attempting to cover their slimy asses. They're selling kolto at twice its regular price and taxing shipments five percent more than normal to both Republic and non-Republic worlds. The kolto supply isn't diminishing; the Selkath are just unwilling to ship as much as they used to. By punishing the rest of the universe, the Selkath look ignorant of what the Republic was doing—which of course is pissing the Republic off, but they'll never say anything. They're paying twice as much and five times more in taxes, so they're ordering fewer shipments and telling their facilities not to be so generous." Wayt leaned forward. "So, this means small-time operators like me are seeing this as a chance to cash in the big credits."

"Steal the shipments of kolto," Nal guessed, "then resell them at even higher prices because desperate customers can't get their hands on the medicine."

Wayt smiled.

_Sheer thievery,_ Liana thought. So much for the honor the Jedi taught her. Course, if she followed the Jedi teachings as closely as she was supposed to, she wouldn't be in this predicament in the first place. She'd be back in the Jedi Temple, locked in her room, and utterly miserable, most likely.

"So how do we get our hands on the kolto?" Nal asked.

"Shipments leave Manaan once a week," Wayt said. "They head directly to Coruscant, where the Republic stores it in a central warehouse. The Republic then distributes the kolto to their various outposts. Non-Republic worlds suffer with what little supplies they have because few have the resources to buy kolto directly from the Selkath." The bald man leaned back in his chair again. "Instead of tackling Republic's main headquarters, we're going to start off small." He hit a button on the arm of his chair. A holographic projection in the shape of a vessel appeared over his desk. "This is a standard Republic cargo ship. Kolto, amongst other supplies, are carted to the Outer Rim planets via ships like these." Wayt pressed another button. The ship dissolved away, replaced by a map. "My spies tell me there's a vessel headed toward the Outer Rim planets in the Kwymar Sector." A yellow line appeared on the map. "It left Coruscant this morning. This is the route it's taking. If my spies are right—" a blinking, green square appeared on the yellow line "—the ship should be around here come this time tomorrow."

"Get on board, steal the kolto, high-tail it back here," Nal said. Liana made a mental note of the coordinates.

"See?" Wayt smiled. "Simple." The hologram disappeared.

Nal nodded. "So how much we talkin'?"

"There's typically anywhere from twenty to thirty crates of kolto per shipment, depending on the demand," Wayt said. "I want all of whatever's on board, and you get two hundred credits a crate."

"Two to four thousand credits for the job?" Nal asked. "That's pretty cheap. You'll get five times as much for one crate when you sell it to desperate souls."

"It's an easy job."

"Easy on a hologram."

Wayt smiled coldly. "You know my payment's always final, yet you continue to try and barter. Two hundred credits a crate."

Nal sat back in his chair. "Two hundred credits," he said softly.

"I want five hundred," Liana firmly interjected.

Wayt shifted his focus to the petite smuggler, who up until now had remained quiet. Anger emanated from the crime lord. "Excuse me?" he sneered, his tone hostile.

Liana wasn't intimidated in the least. Nal, however, was. He panicked. "Now wait, Wayt." He paused, possibly contemplating the homonym, then added, "She's new to your way of—"

"I want five hundred credits a crate," Liana repeated. She stared directly into Wayt's eyes. "We could get caught."

Wayt stared back, then slowly nodded. "You could get caught."

"And then you wouldn't have your kolto."

"Then I wouldn't have my kolto," he repeated.

"So to ensure we're careful and don't lose your investment, you'll pay us five hundred credits a crate."

"Five hundred credits a crate," Wayt said. He turned to Nal. "So make sure you're careful, and don't get caught with my cargo."

Nal stared at the bald man, completely dumbfounded.

Liana smiled. "Thank you, Wayt. It's a pleasure doing business with you."

* * *

Once outside of Gioco's Casino and Cantina, Nal stopped and turned to Liana. "What the hell just happened back there?" 

"I ensured us a payment of ten to fifteen thousand credits," she said. "Fifteen percent of which is mine."

"I know that," he said. "But you just blurted out a demand. And to Wayt! No one ever demands stuff from that guy! Do you know what he does to people who demand things?"

"What?"

"He kills them!"

"He didn't kill me."

Nal threw his hands in the air. "He offered two. You demanded five! Why?"

"Because I could," she said.

"I've done six jobs for him because he's one of the only men who would hire me after the man you killed said I'd never work again! Payments aren't negotiable!"

"This time they were."

Nal spazzed in frustration, his arms flailing to the sides. "That's my point! How the hell did you do that?"

She smiled. "It must be my natural charm."

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, tilted his head to the side, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay. Everything's okay. My partner didn't stand up to Wayt. He was just being generous." Liana opened her mouth to say something, but Nal, eyes still closed and head still tilted, held up a finger to stop her. "Give me a moment."

Liana crossed her arms in front of her chest.

Nal took another deep breath and stood up straight. "Okay. I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"No."

"Good," she said. "We've got a long walk ahead of us back to our ship because you're cheap, and I'd like to get moving. We've got a long haul to the Kwymar Sector."

"Hey, don't call me cheap!" Nal said. "I paid for your meal at the diner!"

"And I'm ever so grateful," she said. "Next time we're here, park closer. You'll be able to afford it."

Nal muttered under his breath.


	10. Fear

**Chapter Ten: Fear**

* * *

Now: 

The medical machines and computers rhythmically and continuously beeped. The constant sound was enough to drive most people crazy. But to Commodore Carth Onasi, it was a comforting sound; it meant his son was alive.

Carth sat by his son's bed, staring at Dustil's face. The last time he was with his son was on Telos before the war Mandalorian War; Dustil was a freckle-faced boy missing his front teeth. But Carth had spent more time arguing with his wife about re-enlisting for another tour of duty than with Dustil. If he had known his son's fate, if he could do it all over again, Carth would have left the military a long time ago—or at least cut back on his duties. He had held out hope that he would be able to reconnect with his son and make up for lost time. But now, he might never get that chance.

The teenager had been hooked up to what seemed like every piece of medical equipment Citadel Station's Infirmary owned. Dustil also had a private room, mostly due to his father's rank and celebrity status. All of Citadel Station knew of home-planet hero Commodore Onasi's role in the destruction of the Star Forge and the defeat of both Lord Malak and Admiral Karath. There wasn't a place on the station Carth could be without someone recognizing him. It had been fun at first, but slowly grew more and more annoying. He hadn't helped bring an end to Malak's reign for the recognition; he did it because of sheer dumb luck. But if his celebrity status was enough to earn his son top treatment in the hospital, it was worth it.

Dustil was barely hanging onto life. He'd been in a coma since Korriban. At first Carth thought his son was dead, but fortunately that wasn't the case. Telos's best doctors were treating Dustil. There were no medical droids other than nursing assistants checking Dustil's status and well-being. On the doctor's last visit, he explained they had done all they could. The rest was up to Dustil.

Carth hadn't left his son's side since the doctors said he could see him. He stayed right there, and even slept in one of the room's chairs. Dustil needed him, and Carth was going to be there when he awoke. He could only hope his son would be okay. If Revan hadn't—

Revan. It made Carth angry just to think about her. She'd betrayed him, just like everyone else. After all this time and everything he had done to help her stay true to the path of the light, she'd gone right back to her Darth Revan roots. He had thought there was good in her, but he'd turned out to be wrong.

And Dustil's current condition was proof of that.

What a fool Carth had been, believing he could give her a reason to stay a Jedi and forget her Sith days. He'd loved her… He'd even given her a blue diamond. All those credits he spent… to show her he cared… only to have her turn right around and stab him in the back. Why had he let himself fall in love with her? She was a Sith Lord. A Sith! They were very thing that destroyed his life in the first place; she was the person that started the Jedi Civil War. Why had he been so stupid?

"Carth?"

"What?" he snapped. He turned around and saw Mission lingering in the doorway.

Mission took a step back. Softly she asked, "T3 and I are going to get something to eat. You… you want anything?"

Carth saw fear on Mission's face. Since they arrived, he'd done nothing but shown her anger and coldness. The poor kid had done nothing to deserve it. "Actually I would," he said, calmer and more conversational. "Do you need credits?"

She shook her head no. "Everything's on the house."

"The same Med Bay food we've been eating?" Carth asked. Mission nodded. He smiled and waved her over. "Go out and get some real food." He reached into his pocket and pulled out some credits. "My treat."

Mission walked over, T3 on her heels. "What do you want?"

"You know the place near the apartment?" Carth asked. Mission nodded as she took his credits. "Anything from their menu is fine." He saw her look at Dustil, the same look of fear on her face. "What's wrong?"

"Is he going to be okay?" she whispered.

"I hope so," Carth said. "The doctors have done everything they can." She still looked uneasy. "Mission?"

"I'm fine," she said.

"No, you're not," he said. T3 sadly beeped. "I've never seen you this upset before, Mission. Talk to me."

Her lower lip quivered. She lowered her head. "I'm scared," she admitted.

"Since when is Mission Vao scared of anything?"

"Since now." She looked at him. "Everything's just… wrong. And everyone's gone. We were all supposed to be happy here." Her eyes filled with tears. "This is just… so messed up! It's never gonna be like it was…"

Carth frowned. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Look, everything's going to be okay. Dustil will pull through. He's strong. And you'll see Zaalbar and the others again. They know we're here—"

"It's not the same," she whispered.

"Not the same what?"

"I want things to be like they were."

"They will be," Carth assured. "It's just going to take some time."

"I don't want it to take time!"

"Mission," he sadly said.

"It's never gonna be like it was because you made Revan leave!"

Silence filled the room, and was quickly replaced by tension. He saw the look of surprise on the Twi'lek's face. It was clear Mission didn't intend on saying those last words, but was trying to look like she had. "I didn't make her leave," Carth said.

"Yes, you did," Mission said, a single tear trickling down her face. "You yelled at her, and now she's gone. And she might be gone for good."

"She's not the person we thought she was," Carth answered. He tried to remain calm, but it wasn't easy. Mission clearly didn't know when to shut up. "She tried to kill Dustil."

Tears streamed down Mission's face. "She'd never do anything like that."

"You weren't there!"

"I didn't need to be there to know she wouldn't do something like that!" Mission snapped. "She knows how important Dustil is to you. Why would she risk everything _twice_ to help you find him only to try and kill him?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know cuz she'd never try to kill anyone!"

Carth's eyes narrowed. "She used to be the Dark Lord of the Sith."

"She ain't anymore!" Mission replied.

"You didn't see her inside the tomb!" Carth yelled. "You didn't see the anger in her eyes! She's the same damn person she was before the mind wipe, just like she'll always be!" He turned back to his son. "She didn't want me to go into the tomb with her. Thank the Force I did. Otherwise there's no telling what she would have done to Dustil."

"Stop talking about Revan like that!" Mission cried. "She'd never hurt anyone!"

Carth pointed at Dustil. Sarcastically, he asked, "May I present Exhibit A?"

"Just stop it!" Mission practically screamed. "I can't believe you're more worried about him than worried about her and how it's affecting everyone else!"

"This is my son, Mission! My son!"

"And Revan's my friend and your girlfriend! And you've totally turned your back to her! I can't believe you! She was trying to help you with Dustil—"

"You call trying to kill my son helping?" Carth was beyond furious. "If you're so loyal to her, then why the hell are you here instead of with Zaalbar?" Mission didn't have an answer. "Now get out of here! I don't want to talk about this again!"

Mission turned around and ran out of the room. T3 angrily beeped at Carth, then chased after the teenager.

* * *

Mission made it as far as the waiting room before she fell to her knees sobbing. T3 wheeled up next to her and sadly beeped. He nudged her gently. Mission looked at the droid. "Why does he talk about her like that, T3? She's not evil!" The teenager hugged her knees. "She's not evil… Dustil probably did something first." She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "I wish Carth was the one who ran away. No one'd be goin' after him." She sniffled again. "Am I the only one who thinks this way about Revan?" 

T3 replied that he hadn't witnessed what Carth was referring to. He told her to have faith that everything was going to be okay in the end. Zaalbar, HK-47, and Canderous would find Revan, and finally there would be some answers.

"And we can get off Citadel," she whispered.

T3 beeped in agreement.

"Thanks," Mission whispered. She reached over and hugged the droid. "Thank you so much."


	11. Heist

**Chapter Eleven: Heist**

* * *

Now: 

It was Rama's first cargo run in the Kwymar Sector. The former Republic Navy petty officer had three planets and one station to visit, and he was already three hours behind schedule. He was going to be in trouble with his superior officer, and most likely written up. Could the day get any worse?

A light on his console began blinking. "We're getting a message," Raik, his co-pilot, said. "Looks like a distress call."

"Punch it up," Rama said.

The audio message crackled, then a female voice cut through the static.

_"Please, you have to help me!"_ the woman in the message said. _"I've run out of fuel, and my life support is failing! I'm all alone out here! Please help me!"_

Rama and Raik looked at each other. "Sounds like she's in real trouble," Rama said. He checked his chrono. "I guess one little detour won't hurt."

Raik nodded. "We can always blame helping a citizen of the Republic is why we're so late." He reached over and replied to the message, stating they were on their way to assist. The woman sounded ever-so-grateful, and responded with her coordinates.

When they reached her vessel and docked, they were expecting to open their door and discover a beautiful woman in complete disarray, thankful someone heard her call for help.

They weren't expecting a sandy-haired man pointing a blaster to their heads.

"Surprise," the man smiled. Rama and Raik froze. "Now be good Republic workers and drop your blasters, then show me where you keep your kolto."

* * *

"_How many crates we talkin'?"_

The sandy-haired man raised his wrist communicator to his face. "I'm countin' forty-five," he answered. "And if I'm doin' the math correctly, I'll never doubt your natural charm again."

Rama lifted another heavy crate. He glared at the man. "You pirates are only in this for the credits," he said between painful grunts. "You're robbin' people of their health. The Outer Rim planets need these supplies. Without them people could die and—"

The man waved his blaster. "Less talk, more work."

"What do you plan on doing with all this kolto?" Rama asked.

"What do you plan on doing if I blast you?"

Rama said nothing. Instead he slowly shuffled his feet and carried the kolto container towards the airlock. As he stepped on board the pirate's ship, Rama saw a petite woman standing there. "That was a low trick you pulled," he said, "preying on the help of others. I hope you do get stranded out here one of these days, and no one hears your call."

The woman remained stoic as he stacked the crate on top of another one.

Rama turned back towards her and frowned. Something about this woman looked familiar. Her hair, her face, her stance… "Don't I know you?" he asked. "You look familiar…"

She glared. "Move the crates."

Suddenly Rama knew where he'd seen her. "I saw you on that Rakata planet… what do they call it, Lehon?" he continued. Rama remembered her standing up with the Jedi. She was part of the strike team, wasn't she? What was she doing here? "During the celebration after the Star Forge was destroyed. I know I saw you standing up with Admiral Dodonna. I used to serve with her on board the—"

She pointed her blaster at him and looked him dead in the eye. "You've mistaken me for someone else. Shut up and move the crates."

Rama stood motionless for a few seconds. Things started to get blurry, and he felt a sharp pain on the side of his head, like he had just been hit. He held the side of his head and winced in pain. What… what had just happened? He looked up and saw a blurry image of a woman standing in front of him. What the hell was going on? He opened his mouth to ask the woman what had just happened when he felt someone nudge him. Rama turned to see Raik standing there with a crate of kolto in his arms. "Come on," Raik said. "Don't make these two angry. We got more crates to bring over."

"More crates?" Rama asked, holding the side of his head.

"Yeah, they want them all. Where the hell've you been?"

"I… I don't know."

"Pretending to be stupid ain't gettin' us outta this," Raik snorted. "C'mon. Help me before they shoot us."

As Rama helped Raik bring the rest of the crates of kolto to the other vessel's cargo hold, he wondered why he was doing so. But with the petite woman and the sandy-haired man pointing blasters at him and Raik, he decided it best not to ask. As they finished bringing the last crate over, the petite woman escorted them back to their own ship. The sandy-haired man smiled, gestured for them to stand in the middle of the cargo hold, then began walking backwards towards the other vessel. "Thank you for your kindness, gentlemen," he said. "I really appreciate all your hard work."

"Thieving pirate," Raik spat.

The man smiled and winked. "Why, thank you."

* * *

As _Gambit_ flew away from the kolto-less Republic cargo vessel, Nal looked at his partner. "I will admit, your plan was good. Not what I would have done, but still… that was good. And congratulations on your wonderful performance as a damsel in distress." 

Liana smiled as she clicked away at the computer interface in front of her. "Thank you."

"Although I doubt you've ever been helpless."

"Whatever makes you think that?" she asked.

Nal snorted. He nodded towards the computer. "What are you doing?"

"While you were greeting those pilots, I sliced into their ship's mainframe," she said, clicking a few more buttons. Liana sat back and smiled. "Consider their ship's memory frame wiped of all knowledge of us and the ship. No one will be able to trace my slice or be able place us at the scene of the crime."

Nal paused for a few seconds. He raised an eyebrow. "You're… you're good."

"Thank you."

As _Gambit_ jumped into hyperspace, Nal asked, "So what was all that back there about a Racket planet? I could hear you two talkin' through the wrist comm."

_That man knew who I was,_ Liana thought. _Maybe not my name, but he was certain he'd seen me before. I could feel it. If Nal ever discovers who I really am, this could all go downhill real fast. _"Haven't a clue," she said instead. "Probably a ploy to catch me off guard."

"What, did he think you were a member of the Republic?"

"I don't know what he thought," she said. Liana checked the navigation computer, and began to mentally calculate the time it would take to get back to Nar Shaddaa from their current location.

"So how did you get into smuggling?" Nal asked. "You never told me."

Liana had three choices. One, tell Nal it was none of his business. Two, tell a lie. Three, tell him what the Jedi Council had programmed her to believe. She chose option three—at least the 'facts' would be straight.

"Started when I was a teenager," she said. "Fell into it by accident. Or on purpose, I still don't know. My parents died when I was young, I had nowhere to go, and I needed to survive. I was good at repairing droids and hyperdrives, and got a job on a ship. Now I'm here."

"What kinds of jobs did you do?" Nal asked.

"I didn't do jobs, per se, when I was a kid," she answered. "I always played the role of the bait. As I grew older, I grew bolder." Liana turned to Nal. "And now I'm here helping you cart kolto back to Wayt."

"What happened to your last partner?"

According to her false memories, she and her partner had a fall-out. Broke with no ship and no love for the Sith, she had agreed to work as a freelancer for the Republic and the Jedi, which had placed her on the _Endar Spire_… but she couldn't tell Nal that. "Dead, I guess," she said instead.

"You guess?"

"He was captured by the Sith," she lied. "And no, I don't want to discuss it any further." Hopefully that would make Nal stop asking questions.

Nal nodded. "I understand. Sorry for your loss." He paused, then asked, "Is he the one who gave you that necklace?"

Liana touched the stone.

"Telosian Blue Diamond is a stone of love, isn't it?" he asked.

"I said I don't want to discuss it!" she snapped.

Nal said nothing more on the subject. "We'll be on Nar Shaddaa sometime tomorrow," he said instead. "Get comfy and relax. I'll send a message to Wayt saying we're on our way."

"A message?"

"It's what the man likes," Nal said. "And seeing we're getting five per, it's only polite."

* * *

Wayt was enjoying the company of his two Twi'lek slave girls when his second-in-command Gred, a tall, dark-haired man, entered the room. Wayt screamed several expletives and demanded to know the purpose behind the interruption. 

"Nal Simer," Gred said. "He and that chick sent a message saying they got your kolto and are comin' this way. Should be here sometime tomorrow. You said you wanted to know the minute we heard from them."

Wayt got out of bed and grabbed a robe. "Good," he said, donning the robe and tying it closed around his waist. "Send them a message back to land at my personal landing dock to make it easier to unload the kolto." Gred nodded. Wayt walked over to his second. In a hushed voice, he said, "Then grab the guards and plan to meet them when they land." His eyes narrowed. "That kriffing schutta managed to weasel five-hundred credits per crate outta me. Don't know how she did it, but she did. And I don't like it. Make it top priority that they receive _nothing_ for their work."

"Ambush?" he asked.

"No," Wayt said. "Wait until the kolto is off his ship and safely in my storage hall. Then make it known they aren't getting paid. By force, if necessary. And also make it known that I won't shed any tears if there's spilled blood. If Simer plans on keeping her around, this is the last job he ever does for me. That girl's nothing but trouble."

"If they fight?"

Wayt grinned. "Feel free to get… creative."

Gred nodded. "It will be my pleasure, Sir."


	12. Mandalorian Master

**Chapter Twelve: Mandalorian Master**

* * *

Now: 

Canderous, Zaalbar, and HK-47 walked the grime-covered streets of Nar Shaddaa's Corellian Sector. Canderous had guessed that since Davik's former top smuggler was trying to regain his reputation, he'd be playing it safe with jobs. There were plenty of employers in this sector who'd jump at the opportunity to employ a playing-it-safe smuggler solely because they could push him around and he wouldn't protest. Credits were something Simer most likely didn't have, and would be grateful to anyone willing to hire him. And knowing Revan, she was keeping her mouth shut the entire time, staying below the radar in an effort to cover her tracks. However, Revan wasn't aware that Canderous knew she was currently hanging out with Simer, nor that he was searching for her, which gave Canderous the advantage.

The Mandalorian informed his companions to stick close, not answer any questions, and not to look anyone in the eye. "If anyone asks," he said, "Zaalbar owes me a life-debt and HK-47 is my droid."

Zaalbar snorted that he understood. HK verbally confirmed, then asked, "Query: Where do you propose we start looking for Master and the smuggler meatbag she is traveling with, Mandalorian Meatbag Temporary Master?"

"First of all," Canderous answered, "drop the 'Mandalorian Meatbag Temporary Master'. Second—"

"Qualification: Until my Master ceases to be my Master, I can only refer to her as Master."

"But by calling me Master, you help to locate your real Master," Canderous pointed out. "And we won't raise suspicion by people wondering why you're referring to me as your temporary master."

HK thought about it for a moment, then said, "Acknowledgement: In an effort to locate my real Master, I shall play the part of your droid and refer to you as Mandalorian Master, even though you truly aren't."

"Whatever." He shook his head. "There're a few places I know where smugglers and bounty hunters hang out. We'll find what we're looking for there."

"Query: And if we do not?"

Canderous smiled. "Trust me, droid. Trust me."

"Observation: The furball says that quite often, and his plans seem to involve me somehow losing my blaster rifle. Although, fortunately, his plans so far have proved flawed, and I have been able to maintain the weapon."

Zaalbar roared that it was his idea to contact Canderous, and his idea that HK send the coded message which, in fact, worked.

HK ignored him. "Statement: I no longer trust the furball when it comes to courses of action. Do not have me arrive to the same conclusions about you, Mandalorian Master."

Canderous snorted. "My plan doesn't involve you selling that beloved gun. Although, droid, this is your kind of town. You can't get anything done without a few idle threats. And you'll need that blaster in order to do so."

"Statement: That pleases me."

After walking for a while, the three entered Shady Café. "If you want to know what's going on in Nar Shaddaa Smuggling Land," Canderous told his companions, "this is the place to come." As they entered, the Mandalorian made mental notes of the deals going on around him, and casually looked to see if he recognized anyone. He silently wished his companions were humanoids, and could easily blend into the crowd. In a place like that, it was difficult to tell a Wookiee and a droid to spread out and look for Revan… even if she was here to begin with.

Canderous made his way to the bar and had a seat. Zaalbar sat next to him, while HK stood behind them, ready to strike if necessary. The former mercenary flagged the bartender and asked for a drink, while the Wookiee ordered two plates of the daily special. "Hope you have enough credits for that," Canderous said after the bartender walked away.

"Observation: This place appears to be filled with numerous scum and scoundrel-type meatbags," HK said. "You were correct. I like it here."

Canderous snorted. "I'm so glad you approve."

After a few minutes, the bartender returned with their orders. Canderous nodded at the man, then said, "So what's new around here? Haven't been to Nar Shaddaa in three years."

The bartender looked at him. "What're you searching for?"

"An old friend," he said. "Nal Simer. Seen him around?"

"Don't know who you're talkin' 'bout," the bartender said.

"He used to be Davik Kang's top man," Canderous casually continued, "until he dropped cargo. Now he's grabbin' whatever small jobs he can, avoiding the Exchange, and avoiding me."

"Exchange I can understand," he said. "But why's he avoiding you?"

"He's got something of mine," Canderous said. His eyes narrowed and his hands held his drink even tighter. "And I want _her_ back." He took a sip of his drink and eyed the bartender as if to ask 'Catch my drift?'

The bartender nodded. He leaned against the counter. "If you pal's grabbin' small jobs, I can tell you the hottest thing to hit the smaller bosses is kolto."

"I'm listening."

"Those damn Selkath have hiked the prices up makin' it scarce," the bartender continued. "All the smaller bosses got men thievin' it so they can sell it to poor saps ain't got none. You find a boss waitin' on a shipment, bet you'll find your man."

Canderous nodded. "Thanks for the tip." As the bartender turned and walked away, the Mandalorian turned to Zaalbar and HK. "Stay here. I'm gonna go see what I can find. And just… just stay out of trouble."

Zaalbar nodded.

"Statement: No one shall get past me. I shoot to kill."

* * *

_Gambit_ landed on Wayt's personal landing dock behind Gioco's Casino and Cantina. "Looks like we've got a welcoming committee," Liana noted as she looked out the side window. "Ten guards." 

Nal looked. "Five more than usual," he said. "Then again, we do have forty-five crates of kolto."

"Which equals to twenty-two thousand five hundred credits," she said. "Fifteen percent of which is mine."

"Woman, you're going to keep reminding me of that, aren't you?"

She smiled. "I am looking to buy a new wardrobe. Maybe something in purple."

Nal just shook his head. "Look, I know you're going to jump all over me, but I'm just sayin' that you need to be careful. That many of Wayt's lackeys means there's going to be trouble."

"I can take care of myself."

"Again, of that I have no doubt," he said. Liana sensed his need to protect. It reminded her of so much of Carth. "Just… these guys can be slimy. And they like to change the rules whenever they feel like it. So keep your ears and eyes open."

Liana said nothing in return. As _Gambit_ powered down, Nal stood up. "I'll go first and do all the talking. You stick close and keep a look out." She nodded, then stood up and followed her partner. Together they exited the ship, with Nal leading.

"Gred," Nal said to a guard with dark hair wearing what looked to be a heavy combat suit. "Nice to see you again."

The man showed no emotion. "Simer. You have Wayt's kolto?"

"All forty-five crates, as promised," he replied. "You got the credits?"

Wayt's second in command reached into his pocket and pulled out two credit chips. "Two thousand five hundred," he said. "Fifty six twenty five up front, the rest after we get the kolto."

Nal looked at Liana. "Quarter of the total. Standard." She said nothing. He stepped forward and accepted one of the credit chips.

"Feel free to use a checker," Gred said. "But you'll find, as always, Wayt doesn't short change to his smugglers."

"I'll take your word for it," Nal said, and pocketed the chip. He turned towards the rest of the guards, then looked back at Gred. "Now, gentlemen, let me show you the kolto."

* * *

Zaalbar was finishing his meal when he felt someone tap him on the shoulder. He turned and saw a rather intoxicated, red-faced man with brown wavy hair and dressed in typical-looking spacer clothes. "I don't like you." 

The Wookiee sneered that he could care less, and turned back towards the bar.

The man tapped Zaalbar again. "I said I don't like you." He hiccupped, then added, "You're too furry. You need a haircut, bub."

From behind Zaalbar, HK-47 chimed in with back-up support. "Statement: You shall step away from the furball unless it is your desire to become a bloody stain on the floor of this establishment."

The man turned to the droid. "Hey, I'm jus' tellin' him that I 'on't like him."

"Intimidation: And I am just informing you to step away from the furball." The droid raised his blaster. "Do you desire a demonstration of the power behind this blaster rifle? I would like ever so much to open fire on your meatsack body."

Zaalbar howled for HK to lower the weapon. Canderous had told them both to stay out of trouble while he looked for more possible leads on Revan and Simer. HK ignored him.

The man took a step forward towards HK. "Are you threatenin' me, droid?"

"Qualification: You are dominated with an excess of alcohol and undoubtedly your circuits were unable to compute this information."

Zaalbar softly snickered.

The man took another step forward and almost fell. "You use big words, tin man."

"Aoplogy: I shall endeavor to use a mono-syllabic vocabulary."

"Now you're makin' fun of me?"

"Explanation: I am merely attempting to adjust my discourse so that comprehension on your part is not as strenuous."

Zaalbar continued to snicker. Although this situation was fast becoming the very thing Canderous told them to avoid, the Wookiee had to admit that for the time being it was entertaining. If the droid could keep his hostility level down, Zaalbar was all for HK handling negotiations from here on out. If only Revan were here to witness her droid in action. She would undoubtedly be pleased and possibly horrified.

The man clearly had enough of HK. He took a swing and punched the droid in the chest, then howled in pain. HK remained undamaged. He looked down at where the man had hit him, then looked at the man. "Explanation: I am constructed out of reinforced durasteel—"

The man nursed his hand, then glared at HK. "I'm gonna rip your circuits outta your head!"

"Extrapolation: Considering you foolishly struck my steel frame and the only injured individual is yourself, I hold great reservation that you would be capable of fulfilling that alcohol-fueled threat." Angry, the man let out a scream and lunged forward towards HK. The droid merely side-stepped, and the drunk patron fell face first on the floor. "Observation: I was correct."

Zaalbar placed a furry paw over his mouth to keep from laughing. He was about to compliment the droid when suddenly the sound of Canderous's voice could be heard. "What the hell are you two doing?" Canderous asked as he approached HK-47. Zaalbar wondered just how much of HK's face-off the Mandalorian saw.

"Recapitulation: The intoxicated meatbag currently lying on the floor of this establishment—who is also unconscious—initiated the original confrontation with the furball."

Canderous snorted. "He started it."

HK nodded. "Affirmative."

"Didn't I specifically state for you two to stay out of trouble and not draw attention to yourself?"

"Explanation: I successfully adverted the trouble the meatbag on the floor was hoping to cause," HK said. "As you can hear, the meatbag is currently exhaling air through his nasal passages at a loud decibel level, and no longer posing a threat."

Canderous looked down at the passed-out drunk, then rolled his eyes. "I think I have a possible lead, but I get a feeling the source isn't all that trustworthy. I wanna keep poking around. Let's go."

"Query: Are we departing? I was growing rather fond of this establishment."

"And that has me worried, which is why we're leaving."


	13. Cowboy Diplomacy

**Chapter Thirteen: Cowboy Diplomacy**

* * *

Now: 

With five men working to unload the kolto crates, it took little time to unload _Gambit_'s cargo hold as it did to load it. Crate by crate, the kolto was unloaded and stacked on the landing dock near a pile of miscellaneous ship parts and tools. While Nal was inside keeping a watchful eye, Liana stood outside _Gambit_, noting the way the guards stood, paced, and stared. She sensed something wasn't right, and had a bad feeling about the whole situation. Nal did have a good reason to be suspicious of these people; she could still sense uneasy feelings and thoughts from him. But then again, it wasn't like every crime lord on Nar Shaddaa—or anywhere else—was straight laced and trustworthy. Liana would just have to take his word.

"So that's all of it," Nal said as the last kolto container was stacked on the side of the landing dock. He exited _Gambit _and stood next to his petite partner. "Where's the rest of the—"

The blaster pointed at his face told him to shut up. Liana reached for her sidearm only to have one pointed at her, too. Soon, all the guards and helpers had various types of weapons pointed at the two smugglers.

"Great," Liana muttered.

"Drop your blasters," Gred said.

"Hey, Gred," Nal laughed with his hands in the air. "Look, obviously there's been a misunderstanding—"

"The only misunderstanding is you thinking you can haggle more credits out of Wayt," he coldly said. He turned towards Liana. "He doesn't take too kindly to people thinkin' they can bat their eyes and get whatever they want. And he certainly isn't happy over five per crate. Now drop your blasters and kick them towards me."

The smugglers did as they were told.

"So now what?" Nal asked. "You've got your kolto. And it's looking like we aren't getting fully paid for our troubles."

Gred fired his blaster. Nal quickly ducked and pushed Liana out of the way, just as the red streak of light flew past his head and hit _Gambit_, sizzling on contact.

"Now what?" Gred repeated. He nodded towards to one of the other guards, who walked over to Nal and removed the credit chip from the smuggler's pocket, then handed it to Gred. "Now you leave empty-handed. Boss doesn't like people thinkin' they can make demands. This'll be the last job you ever do for Wayt."

Nal looked puzzled. "All because—"

"Come on, Simer," he said. "You know better than this. You might wanna teach your partner the rules. Next time you find employment, wherever that may be, you make sure she keeps that mouth of hers shut."

Liana's eyes narrowed. There had to be some way to get out of this mess. She glanced over to the pile of ship parts. On the ground was a straight lead pipe, which looked to be about as long and thick as a normal quarterstaff. It wasn't exactly a double-bladed lightsaber, but it would do. However, there was the matter of getting to the pile. Sure she could use the Force to levitate the pipe the distance, but that was just as bad as using her concealed lightsabers. Liana mentally sighed. If she was going to try her hand at being a smuggler, then she needed to play the part. "We should at least get paid something for our troubles. It's pretty unfair—"

"Unfair?" Gred asked. "This your first spice run? Shut up and be grateful I didn't kriffing blast you."

Nal nudged Liana. "Look, we'll just get going—"

"Spineless kath hound," she muttered under her breath. Why did Nal always play the safe route? Even Carth was up for a brave yet foolish challenge now and then.

Nal looked at his partner. "What did you just call me?"

"You heard me," she said roughly. Maybe she could stun all the guards using the Force, then lie and say their adrenalin belts coincidentally overloaded at the same time. "These people owe us credits, and I'm not leaving until I get something for our hard work."

Nal started to fumble. "Look, this isn't a good idea—"

"You want something?" Gred asked Liana. He took a few steps forward and aimed his blaster at her face. "That can be arranged."

Liana thought back to the pipe lying on the ground. She slowly took a few steps to the right, inching her way closer to the pipe. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," she said.

"Oh? And what are you going to do about it?"

She smiled. "This." Liana kicked the pipe upwards with her right foot, then held her right hand out. The lead pipe flew to her hand. In one swift motion, she brought the pipe up and smacked Gred as hard as she could. Using the lead pipe a quarterstaff, she turned herself at the waist and smacked Gred with the other end of the pipe, knocking him to the ground.

Nal stared, eyes wide. "What the—"

Other guards ran to attack. Liana twirled the lead pipe and struck the guards one by one. She hit them hard on whatever was closest, back-kicking if she couldn't swing her pipe around to attack. Several guards aimed their blasters at her. Liana charged forward, ducking the blaster fire, and knocked the weapons out of the guards' hands with her make-shift quarterstaff.

Not wanting to stand on the sidelines—and spurred by the fact his partner was taking on all ten guards by herself—Nal jumped the nearest guard and began punching and kicking. The guard retaliated, punching Nal in the face. The remained guards were torn as to which person to attack.

The pipe in Liana's hand spun so fast, it was difficult for the others to see what she was doing. When one man stopped long enough for her to attack, she took one end of the pipe, hit the ground, then used the pipe to swing herself around and kick the guard, sending him flying backwards.

Nal knocked out two more guards, then wiped the blood away from his mouth with the back of his hand. All of Wayt's men lay on the floor of the landing pad, covered in bruises and scraps. Liana and Nal made eye contact, then Liana walked over to where Gred lay. She placed her foot on his throat—not enough to crush his windpipe or cut off his air supply, but just enough pressure to get her message across. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Nal pick up his fallen blaster and aim it at Gred.

"So," Liana said, "I think you owe me and my partner a couple thousand credits for our work."

Gred sneered. "Wayt said—"

"I don't care what Wayt said," she replied. "The way I see it, you have two choices: I can take the credits from you now or I kill you then take the credits."

"You wouldn't dare."

She applied a little more pressure. "Don't underestimate me. It just makes me angry."

"You'll never work for Wayt again!"

Nal piped up. "Don't think I want to after this warm welcome."

Gred glared. Slowly he reached into his vest pocket and pulled out two credit chips. "Twenty-two thousand five hundred. Take it and get out of here." He tossed them upwards, and Liana caught them with her free hand.

"Check it," she said, then handed the credit chips to her partner. He pulled out a pocket reader from his vest.

"Valid," he said.

Liana removed her foot. She looked down at Gred. "Tell Wayt thank you for holding up his end of the bargain. It's a shame we won't be doing any future business with him."

Gred slowly sat up and rubbed his throat. With a snort, he spit.

* * *

"So did I mention you scare me?" Nal asked as _Gambit_ took off from Wayt's landing pad. 

"You might have mentioned that a couple of times," Liana replied. "Where am I plotting a course for?"

"Just what the hell happened back there?" he asked, ignoring her question. "And don't get smart and say Wayt tried to pull a fast one."

"But he did. And you were going to take the easy route instead of fighting for what we agreed to."

"What _you_ agreed to," Nal said. "I told you, no one ever haggles with Wayt. You're lucky we made it out of there alive. And where the hell did you learn to do all that with a pipe?"

Liana gave him a sideways look. "Considering you do nothing but stare at my chest, you seem very unduly surprised that I can defend myself."

Nal took offense. "I do not stare at your chest!"

"You're right," she said. "When I first met you, you were much more interested in my backside."

Nal turned red. "Look… okay. So far, every time you and I get involved with these people, there's an incident—"

"We've only seen them twice."

"Like I said," he repeated. "Every time there's an incident and… and you do something that blows my mind."

"Thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment!" Nal cried. Liana glared. "Okay, maybe it was. Please don't hurt me." She said nothing. "The point is… just…" He let out a cry of frustration. "How do you do that stuff?"

"What stuff?" she innocently asked.

Nal spazzed again. "The thing with the pipe and the getting people to agree with you and the threatening and… and everything that happened back there!"

"I thought we agreed—"

"But this is driving me crazy!"

"Maybe if you weren't so spineless, we wouldn't have these problems."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me!" she snapped. "Every time we've encountered difficulty with these people, the first thing you do is play it safe. That's why Wayt low-balled us on the payment. That's why they thought they could take the kolto without paying. They know you're not going to protest, so they'll walk all over you."

"You think this is all about the credits?" Nal asked, angry.

"Considering you keep pointing out how broke you are—"

"This is not about payment!" Nal snapped. "This is about me regaining my reputation! My partner betrayed me and left me for dead! As far as he's concerned, I _am_ dead. I have to start all over, and I can't do that by biting the hand that feeds me!"

"You can smuggle all you want," she said, "but if you don't get paid for your—"

"I _was_ getting paid until you made demands to Wayt!"

"And now you got paid more!"

"You-you think you can just waltz in here and change the rules of the game?" Nal cried. "It doesn't work that way!"

"It does if you're willing to take a risk now and then!"

"I hired you, didn't I?" Nal said. "After everything you've pulled, I consider that a risk!"

"That was me trying to help you!" Liana snapped.

"You're lucky I haven't spaced you yet!"

"I'd like to see you try!"

"Well, I'd…" Nal hesitated. "I'd certainly like to!" He paused, then softly added, "Course, you'd have to be tied up first. And gagged. It would be great if you were unconscious, too. That would really help."

Liana tried not to smile.

Nal sighed. "Just… Just next time, don't undermine my authority." When Liana opened her mouth to protest, Nal held up a finger as a silent gesture to wait. "Let me do all the talking, and if… if it looks like they're trying to pull a fast one, I'll let you take over, okay? I don't want a repeat of Wayt."

"So you're keeping me on?"

"For now," he said. "You plot that course for Tatooine?"

"Is that where we're headed?" she asked.

He looked at her puzzled, then realized he'd never answered her question from before. "Yes."

She reached over and began pressing buttons on the console. "Plotted."

"Good. Let's just get the hell out of here."


	14. Pulling A Vao

**Chapter Fourteen: Pulling A Vao**

* * *

Now: 

Across the street and down a block from Gioco's Casino was another hole-in-the-wall cantina. Gred Lugo, former second to the crime lord Wayt, sat at the bar throwing back Tarisian Ales. He wasn't exactly sure how long he'd been sitting there, but it was long enough to spend forty-five credits on drinks. An older man was seated next to him, and was stuck listening to Gred as he cried with slurred words his tale of woe.

"S'all gone," he whined. "Wond'ful job. Lots o'credits. S'all gone. Bye-bye, gone."

"You'll get another job," the man said. "Don't worry."

Gred looked at the man, then jumped back in slight surprise that the grey-haired man had suddenly become twins… twins that moved together in unison. "No job, mans," he softly sobbed. "No job. All gone."

"But this is Nar Shaddaa," the twins said. "There's always work." Gred took note that even though both men were speaking the same words at the same time, it only sounded like one of them was talking. When he pointed this out, the twins said, "There's only one of me sitting here."

"That's what they all say," Gred said. He wobbled a bit on his stool. "But I know… I know… better!"

"I think you've had too much ale. It's giving you double vision."

"I'm fine," Gred insisted. "Ne'er been drunk before in m'life."

"Whatever you say." The man turned away.

Wayt's former front man finished his glass and asked the bartender for another refill. He tapped the man next to him and saw both twins turn their heads. "You know… If that shutta hadn' done this to me, I'd still have the job. It always a woman… Always. Dunno what he sees in 'er."

"Your woman left you for another man?"

"No, she ain' mine." Gred's refill arrived. He drank most of it, then finished answering the question. "Teach 'er a lesson if she was." He let out a belch. "She the first woman ever stand up t'Wayt." He waved a finger. "He didn' like that. It wa' wrong."

"Women can be like that sometimes. I've known a couple stubborn ones in my days."

"She ain' stubb'r," he slurred. "She insane! Attackin' ever'one wit' a pipe!" He shook his head, then took another swig of the alcohol. "Insane. Dunno wha' Simer sees in her. She's a pain in the choobies."

"Did you say 'Simer'?" The man suddenly seemed interested in what Gred had to say. "Nal Simer?"

Gred nodded. "That be him." He polished off the ale. "Takin' on a par'ner. He ne'er done that b'fore. Las' par'ner he had tried t'kill him." He raised the empty glass and looked to see if there was another drop of his drink he'd missed. "And that schutta cost me m'job!"

"Do you know where they went?"

Gred raised his hand, pantomiming a ship taking off and leaving the planet. "They go… up."

"So they've left Nar Shaddaa?" he asked. Gred nodded, then belched. "Phwoar!" the man cursed, slamming his fist down on the table.

Gred jumped. "You lookin' fo' Simer, too?"

"He's got somethin' of mine I want back."

He wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "I can talk t'him if y'like." Gred pulled out a datapad. "Got his commica'ion code here. Wayt didn' take it back. Can call him if I wan'." He stopped, then shook his head. "Bad idea. Schutta might answer. Don' like her."

The man eyed the datapad then smiled. "I'd like to hear more about this woman you keep talking about. Let me buy you another drink…"

* * *

HK-47 and Zaalbar were waiting for Canderous outside the cantina. Since the last time they were allowed inside a similar establishment the droid got close to being in a bar fight, the Mandalorian had deemed it a better idea for the two to wait outside. HK had suggested he and the Wookiee play the same game they did back on Korriban, despite Zaalbar's lack of enthusiasm. He was focused on finding Revan, especially since Canderous had found what he considered promising leads. 

HK watched a Duros pass by. "Observation: Ooh, that one looks tough. Roughly calculating his body height and mass, I estimate five seconds."

Zaalbar unenthusiastically woofed ten seconds if he kept one arm pinned behind his back.

Soon Canderous exited the cantina and headed directly towards the mismatched pair. "Let's go," he said, looking to be in a great hurry.

"Query: Did you discover—"

"Got something better," he said. He reached into his inner vest pocket and pulled out the top of a datapad. With a wide grin, he added, "It's amazing the things you can pluck from inebriated individuals."

"Admiration," HK said. "I like your style."

* * *

T3-M4 wheeled down the halls of Citadel Station's main hospital. Ever since Carth had yelled at Mission, she had refused to speak to him, leaving the astromech droid as the go-between. This time he was bringing a message to the Commodore, telling Carth that he and Mission were going to go out exploring again. T3 wasn't as adventurous as Zaalbar, but if it made Mission happy to have him along, then so be it. 

The droid entered Dustil Onasi's room and wheeled up to the Commodore. He whistled and beeped that he and Mission would be leaving for a few hours, and to contact them via Mission's holopad if necessary.

"Whatever," Carth muttered.

T3 took that as his cue to leave.

Carth listened as the droid left the room and went down the hall. He was still angry at Mission's words. She may be just a kid, but she still got to him now and then. How could she continue to believe Revan was a model Jedi? If Mission had been inside the tomb, she'd know better. She would have seen Revan as her true self.

No, that was all in the past. There was no sense dwelling on her anymore. Right now, Dustil was his main focus. His son was still unconscious. Carth wasn't sure how many days had passed; everything seemed to blend together. Dustil had been in and out of kolto tanks since arriving—at least up until the kolto shortage hit. Something about smugglers stealing from a Republic cargo vessel, but he didn't know the details. Now Dustil was on his own until more kolto could arrive.

Carth caught a glimpse of his reflection on the room's window. His barely-there beard that Revan had loved so much had grown into a full one. It was in desperate need of a trim. Maybe he should shave the whole damn thing off now that she wasn't around begging him to keep it.

Why did everything always come back to Revan?

As long as he was thinking about her, he wondered where she had gone. Maybe she was still on Korriban, perhaps trying to rebuild the Sith Academy. Or maybe she had left the planet and gone elsewhere. He wondered if Zaalbar and HK had met up with her. They had seemed rather insistent on staying with her. Carth vaguely remembered Mission telling Zaalbar to keep in contact. But seeing that Mission hadn't said anything to him—not that he cared in the first place—he could only assume no one knew where Revan had gone.

He thought back to the Korriban Tomb. Revan had said there was something wrong with Dustil, that he wasn't right. She had said he was a danger. Clearly the only danger was her. Carth looked down at his son and wondered if Revan felt any remorse for what she had done.

"_Carth, I… I'm sorry! I didn't—"_

"_You didn't what?" he screamed. "You didn't _think_?"_

"_I thought I was—"_

"_You thought wrong!"_

"_I—"_

"_Get out of here! Get out of here _NOW!_"_

Carth winced at the memory. It was true that at the time he thought Dustil was dead. Hell, Revan probably thought she had killed him, too. But Dustil was still very much alive, and his condition was continuing to improve. Despite the rocky relationship between him and his son, Carth would do anything to protect him. And the mere thought that the woman he loved so much would try to take his child away from him… Was it possible to find Revan, maybe tell her that Dustil was okay? Would she even care? Would it change things between them?

_Are you still in love with her, Onasi? _

Carth sighed. He raked his fingers through his hair and stood up. His kneecaps cracked, telling him he'd been sitting too long. Carth wandered over to the window, leaned the palms of his hands against the sill, and stared out into the blackness of space. As much as he hated to admit it, he'd always love Revan—just like he'd always love his wife. But was he still _in_ love with her?

Carth rested the top of his forehead against the cool glass. He had felt empty inside before, but not like this—at least, not since Telos was destroyed and his family lost. He had built up walls to protect himself from these feelings. Carth had gone years without letting his guard down. But Revan changed all that.

He should be focusing on Dustil right now. He was the one who needed support and help. Revan was long gone, and most likely wanted nothing to do with him anymore. That's why she ran away, right?

_Or maybe she ran away because of me… just like Mission said._

No, Mission wasn't there. She didn't see Revan attack. Revan couldn't have left because of him. She left because of what she did to Dustil, because—

_Because I told her to._

Carth sighed. Mission was right. He didn't regret his actions back on Korriban. His words to her, maybe, especially since Dustil was okay. But he did not regret defending his only child. Carth wasn't the only determining factor in Revan's departure. If Mission knew what had happened, she'd understand. He, however, wasn't ready to talk about the incident. Or maybe he was. But talk to Mission? She'd only continue to support Revan; she couldn't separate her own feelings from the situation.

_Just like she continued to support Liana Suul after Malak told us who she really was? _

Carth turned around and leaned his back against the window and sill. He rubbed his temples. Why was he continuing to think about Revan after he had told himself several times he wasn't going to? He looked over at Dustil. Carth loved his son, and he wanted to be by Dustil's side when the teenager woke up. But maybe Carth needed to leave the room for a little while and get some fresh air. Maybe even take a nap in a real bed for once instead of a chair. And while he was at it, he probably owed Mission an apology… more than one, most likely.

Carth walked over to Dustil's bedside. He reached over and gave his son's hand a squeeze. "I'll be back later," he said.

He was about to walk away when he felt his son weakly squeeze back.

Carth's eyes widened. "Dustil?"

The teenager's eyes opened slightly. "Father?" he hoarsely whispered.

"You're—You're okay!" His smile could have split his face in half. Carth forgot about leaving and speaking with Mission; he wasn't going anywhere now.

"Where… am…"

"Citadel Station," he said. "We're in orbit above Telos."

"I…"

"Shh," Carth said. "Don't try to talk. Take it easy; you're going to be okay."


	15. Anxiety’s Moment

**Chapter Fifteen: Anxiety's Moment**

* * *

Now:

"…_and in local news, Commodore Carth Onasi's son Dustil has awakened from his coma."_

Mission looked up at the holovision screen above the cantina's bar. The cantina in the Entertainment Module was relatively quiet; she and T3 had entered during a non-peak hour. They were seated near the main bar, but away from the other patrons and pazaak players. At the top of the hour, the bartender had turned the local news feed on the holovision screen. Mission had only been half-listening until she heard the news anchor mention 'Onasi'. She ignored her food and kept her eyes glued to the screen.

"_Although there is still no word on how Dustil Onasi was injured, doctors say he is expected to make a full recovery. The Commodore was unavailable for comments." _The human female news reporter on the screen smiled broadly as she rattled off the known details of Dustil's condition, and briefly summarized Carth's career with the Republic Navy. Pictures of Carth flashed across the screen, ranging from old posed military pictures of him from years past to a holofeed of Carth's arrival on Coruscant after returning from the destruction of the Star Forge. _"The Telosian Commodore will be forever known, however, as the brave commander who brought an end to Darth Malak's reign."_

Mission snorted. "More like didn't do anything but whine that he didn't want to stay on the Hawk. Revan did all the work and he gets all the credit? Stupid spin. Also like how they left out the part about Dustil bein' a Sith." She placed her left elbow on the table and leaned her cheek against the palm of her left hand, then began stabbing her food with her fork. "How come Carth didn't contact us and tell us himself?"

T3 whistled that he hadn't a clue.

Mission sneered. "See if I tell him anything from now on." Mindlessly, she began swinging her legs while she continued to stab her meal. When she got back to the hospital, the first thing she was going to do was contact Zaalbar. Maybe when he found Revan, he could pass the news along to her. Knowing Dustil was expected to fully recover might be reason enough for her to return. At this rate Mission didn't care if Revan and Carth made amends. She just wanted to see her big sister again.

The reporter on the monitor continued. _"Authorities still have not discovered the identity of the thieves who stole forty-five crates of kolto intended for the __Kwymar Sector.__The two pilots of the Republic cargo ship have been unable to provide authorities with a description of the two robbers, and the cargo vessel's memory banks were deleted of any record of the heist. Republic Medical Headquarters on Coruscant has issued a statement saying they have doubled their security efforts and will now include armed escorts with every shipment. Many of the stolen kolto crates were intended for delivery to __Citadel Station. Medical personnel here on Citadel have issued statements assuring all residents that there are enough supplies and medicine on the station, and the stolen kolto was merely a routine shipment."_

"Probably some gung-ho smuggler," Mission sighed. "Come on, T3. Let's get out of here before the news becomes any more depressing." When T3 asked where she wanted to go instead, she answered, "I want to contact Zaalbar and let him know about Dustil. Bet Carth's in a better mood. He might even be approachable now." She paid for her meal, then she and T3 left the cantina.

* * *

Canderous sat in the pilot's chair of his small ship, thumbing through the datapad he had stolen from Gred. The datapad had been password protected, with the emphasis on 'had been.' With some help from Zaalbar and HK, the simple code was cracked, and now all Canderous had to do was find where all the communication codes were stored.

"Query," HK asked as he watched the Mandalorian. "What is your suggested plan of battle? Are we to contact Simer and demand the return of the Master?"

"No, cuz then she'd be on to us," Canderous explained in a patronizing tone. "I've tracked down enough bounties to know you never call 'em up and say you're comin' for them. No, this'll require a bit of manipulation. If Revan figures out we're on her trail, she's liable to bail again, and we'll have to start from the beginning."

Zaalbar moaned.

"Right now, as far as we know, she doesn't know we're coming after her," Canderous continued. "So that gives us the advantage."

"Query: When we encounter the meatbag that took the Master from us, may I shoot him?"

"It may not be his fault." Canderous tried another folder on the datapad. "Like I said, Simer doesn't have a backbone. She probably had to strong arm him in order to team up. And I'm sure he doesn't know her true past."

"Query: May I shoot him for being oblivious?"

He snorted. "Maybe. We'll see." In frustration, he handed the datapad to Zaalbar. "You figure this damn thing out." Canderous leaned back in his chair and began thinking about all the various ways he could lure Nal and Revan in. He thought back to some jobs he did for Davik, and how—

Zaalbar woofed. "Translation," HK said. "The furball has discovered the hidden folder containing the communication codes."

Canderous ripped the datapad from the Wookiee's hand. "Where did you find them?" Zaalbar pointed to the folder on the main screen marked 'Transmission.' The Mandalorian muttered, then scrolled through the codes until he found one labeled 'Simer.'

"Query: Have you figured out a plan of battle?"

Canderous shook his head. "I need something believable that neither of them will question."

"Query: Did you not think up scenarios similar to this one when you were employed by the Exchange?"

"Yes, droid," Canderous impatiently snapped. "That's what I'm trying—" The Mandalorian stopped. He looked at HK and smiled. "That's it!"

"Infuriation: Why do you two creatures continue to look at me like that? I should warn you, I have a blaster rifle and I'm not afraid to use it!"

Canderous ignored the droid. "Punch up the communications panel," he said to Zaalbar. "The droid's given me an idea how to get Simer and Revan."

* * *

"How are you feeling, son?"

Dustil shook his head. He was seated on his medbed and attempting to eat. "You keep asking me that."

"Is it a crime for a father to be worried about his son?" Carth asked. Dustil said nothing. "I see the color's come back to your cheeks. You look… you look a lot better. The doctor said you'll make a full recovery." When his son remained silent, Carth continued to ramble. "It's amazing, really. It doesn't look like you were attacked at all. I mean, there's still a couple scratches and cuts, but… I mean, you were… so… injured. Did you use the Force, or something?"

"I'm fine, old man," Dustil said. He went back to eating.

Carth nodded. "Right…" He started to pace the room. "So, um…" He wasn't sure what to say, or how to talk to his child. He could almost hear Revan prompting him to say something. "So, uh, how… how come you stayed on Korriban?"

"Couldn't afford to leave," Dustil replied.

"Why didn't you contact me? I would have gladly come and gotten you." He frowned.

"No credits."

It seemed like Dustil was purposely keeping his answers short. He wasn't like this when they were first reunited at the Sith Academy. "Is there something wrong?"

"No."

"Then why—"

Dustil pushed his food tray away and lay back down on his bed. "Just let me rest some."

Carth raised his eyebrows then sighed. "Okay. I'll, uh, leave you be, then. If you need anything, I'll be around."

Dustil said nothing.

"Okay," he sighed. He exited the room and closed the door behind him.

_That was awkward_, Carth thought as he walked slowly down the hall towards the waiting room. _Maybe Dustil's still a little disorientated from everything. Or just doesn't feel like talking. Or it's the meds._ He felt a headache coming on. He had to admit this wasn't exactly the re-reunion he was looking for. Carth hoped Dustil just needed some time alone before he was ready to talk.

Carth reached the waiting room and flopped down on a chair. He thought about turning on the holovision at the far end of the room, but decided it was too much effort to get back up. He wanted quiet right now. Carth leaned back, resting his head against the wall and stretching his legs out. He closed his eyes and thought back to when Dustil was a little boy, running around their home on Telos without a care in the world, his wife smiling and laughing as she chased after their son…

The sudden sound of Mission's voice snapped Carth back to the here and now. "What's the big idea not contactin' us about Dustil?" He sat up straight in his chair and looked at the blue teenager. She looked extremely angry. "We had to hear it on the news!"

T3 chimed in agreement.

"The news?" he asked.

"Yeah, the thing on the holovision that tells you what's goin' on in the universe?" Her tiny hands rested on her hips. "So wrapped up in your own little world you can't be bothered to keep me informed?"

Carth clenched his jaw. _It's not worth it_, he told himself. "I'm sorry," he said instead. "I was busy with the doctors—why was it on the news?"

"Cuz you're a bona fide home-planet hero, _Commodore_." She said his rank like it was some type of foul disease. "There's no one on this station who doesn't know who you are. You should hear all the junk the news anchor said about you."

Carth didn't want to. He leaned forward, his forearms resting on his thighs. He still owed her an apology. He supposed now was as good of a time as ever. "Mission, I'm… I'm sorry about earlier. I've been so focused on Dustil…" He sighed. "I've done a lot of thinking and, and I shouldn't've taken my anger out on you."

"An apology?" She snorted. "That's funny comin' from you."

"Mission, I'm sorry for what I said. Look, I know I'm not perfect."

"That's for sure," Mission muttered.

Carth ignored the comment. "But I am sorry for how I've been treating you," he continued. "I just… I just wanted you to know."

"So, what, you think everything's gonna be fine now?"

He focused on the expression on her face. Mission was still blaming him for Revan's departure and her current stranded state on Citadel Station. Like always, she was stuck in the middle. "No," he simply said. "But it's a start."

"You wanna start makin' things right?" Mission said with an edge of attitude. "Apologize to Revan. Then we'll see what happens."

Carth closed his eyes and said nothing.

"C'mon, T3."

He heard Mission and T3 leave the room. Once again, it was silent.

Carth should be happy his child was alive and well. Instead, all he felt was desperation. Mission was still angry, Dustil wasn't talking… He cupped his hands behind his neck and closed his eyes tight. Would anything ever go back to some sort of normal?


	16. Betrayal

**Chapter Sixteen: Betrayal  
**

* * *

Now:

_Gambit_ was a few hours away from Anchorhead, Tatooine. Liana was asleep in her bunk while Nal was lounging in the cockpit, trying to catch some sleep before landing. The pilot's chair was leaned back, and his feet were propped up on the console. He was only half asleep when the communication panel began beeping. He muttered choice expletives, then lazily reached over and hit the receive button. The screen flashed that the message was audio only and for him. "Simer."

A rough, male baritone-timbre voice came from the speaker. _"Hope I didn't catch you at a bad time."_

Nal yawned. "Just tryin' to catch some shut-eye. Who is this?"

The rough-tone turned smooth and almost conversational, but clearly was still the same man. _"Someone you don't want to get on the wrong side of."_

"Yeah, well, I'm gonna need a little more than that." Nal stretched, then shifted positions to try and get more comfortable.

"_I got a job I need done, and you're just the person to help me."_

Nal contemplated hanging up on the man. "Oh really, Mister Mysterious Voice? May I ask how you know—"

"_Professional courtesy. I know about you and the kind of jobs you do. I also understand you've got a new partner who recently caused some trouble on Nar Shaddaa."_

Nal looked around the cockpit. "She ain't here, if that's what you're asking."

"_Define here."_

"The room," he said with a shrug. What did it hurt this person knowing she wasn't currently around?

"_Good, because she's the one I want to talk about."_ There was a pause. _"If you have an earpiece, you might want to plug it in. Just in case, you know?"_

Nal sighed. He put on his headset, hoping this was worth his time. Something smelled fishy, but then again, he wasn't exactly an honest businessman. Fishy jobs were keeping him alive. And this wasn't the first time some mysterious person had contacted him for a job in this manner. Most of his employers he never met face-to-face, and that's just how they liked to keep it. But this was the first time someone called about one of his partners. "All right, you're off speaker, whoever you are."

"_I'm sure you're familiar with the little lady's history."_

"That she's pissed off every major operation out there, yeah," Nal said. He tucked his hands behind his head. "So you want to tell me what this call is about?"

"_You familiar with her history with the Exchange?"_

A shiver ran down Nal's spine. "She told me about Kang's death, yes."

"_Good."_

"So again, Mysterious Voice, I ask, what is the purpose behind this comm?"

"_My name's… Zaalkay. I've been tracking your partner for a while. I wasn't sure it was her until I learned of her attack on Wayt's men. Consider the trouble she caused as her calling card. I thought you'd like to know that your little partner still works for the Exchange."_

Nal sat up straight, his legs hitting the ground with a loud thunk. "What do you mean?"

"_The death of Davik Kang is just an elaborate cover. He's still very much alive, and has hired her to take out his enemies one by one. And I hate to tell you, but you're on the list."_

"Wait… so she's gonna—"

"_Kill you? Eventually. She likes to sneak up on her victims and catch them off guard." _The man chuckled._ "I'm surprised you've lived this long, actually. She was probably waiting to cash in big on a job, then kill you and take all the credits for herself. The last job you had was quite a hefty profit for you. I'm assuming she did all the talking, especially since Wayt paid you five hundred credits per crate."_

No one had ever contacted him with this much information on past jobs. "How—How do you know all of this?"

"_Because I was on her list, too. She thinks I'm dead."_

Nal stopped. What was this man's game? "So this is just a friendly warning? What do you want me to do about it?"

"_If you want to live, you'll be smart."_

"And what, shoot her?"

Zaalkay chuckled again. _"She'll see you coming. Haven't you seen her dodge blaster fire?"_

Nal paused. "Yeah, actually…"

"_She's had… special training. One of her talents is watching the barrel on blasters and avoiding the trajectory of the blaster beams."_

His brow wrinkled. "How the hell can anyone do that?"

"_She does."_ There was another pause. _"I'm also calling to let you know that there's a bounty on her head. Republic bounty. Good and honest… except for the part that the bounty hasn't gone public yet. It's over ten million credits."_

"Ten… million?"

"_Five of that could be yours, if you're willing to help. You could retire a rich man, Simer, and never have to take fodder jobs from anyone again."_

Nal hesitated. "So what's the catch?" There was always a catch…

"_Tell me where you're headed and we can work out a plan together… provided you're interested in living. She's nothing but trouble, and you're better off without her. And you'll be plenty rich afterwards."_

Betray Liana? What if what this Zaalkay was saying was true? He had never met this mysterious stranger, but his story made sense. Perfect sense, actually. Liana had approached him looking for a job, and seemed to be running the show. How many times had he yelled at her? He didn't even want a partner in the first place. And although she was gorgeous—and probably a lot of fun in the bunk—she scared the living daylights of out him. There would be no love lost if he got rid of her… especially if credits were somehow involved. And the rest of the people on Kang's hit list could live on to better lives.

"_Simer?"_

He looked around the cockpit for any signs of Liana, then said: "Yeah, I'm… I'm interested."

* * *

Canderous turned the communication panel off. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. With a smug smile, he said, "Yup. Still got it."

"Query: Zaalkay?" HK asked, clearly puzzled.

Canderous shrugged. "First thing I could think of, droid." He turned to Zaalbar. "Plot a course for Anchorhead. If Simer keeps up his end of the deal—which I'm assuming he will since he's not bright enough to think otherwise—we'll be seein' Revan by the end of tomorrow."

"Query: What is this 'special training' Master has that you spoke of?"

"Other than being a Jedi?" Canderous snorted. "It's called lying, droid. Made all that stuff up. But it worked. Simer thinks his partner is going to betray him again and wants to do something about it before it happens." He raked his fingers through his hair. "Course, the only thing I'm worried about is Revan sensing deception in Simer. Then again, she might brush it off to his spineless attitude."

"Query: So there is no ten million credit bounty on Master's head?"

"You sound disappointed," Canderous said. "Hoping to cash in?"

"Negative. I would be insulted that the Republic would think Master is worth only ten million credits."

The Mandalorian wasn't quite sure how to take that. "Well, I'm… glad you think so?"

Zaalbar woofed a question. "Translation: What happens once Simer discovers he has been deceived?"

Canderous frowned. "Hadn't thought of that. Suppose we could shoot him with a stun gun. Leave him in the middle of the East Dune Sea to wake up with Sandpeople pokin' him. Sounds like a decent plan, right?"

Zaalbar let out a snort.

"Look, the whole reason I'm here is to help you two get back to her," Canderous said. "That's it. There's no other reason for me to be here. I got my own problems back on Dxun."

"Recollection: Did you not state that you yourself are curious to know why Master left?"

"Yes, I did," he said. "And I plan on offering her refuge on Dxun. If she'd rather go gallivanting with Simer, than so be it. You two can go with for all I care."

HK wasn't convinced. "Observation: It appears to me that you have no desire to see Master continue to journey with Simer."

Canderous raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

HK continued. "Judging from your previous statements about and the recent conversation with the meatsack, you wish to see him disposed of and have Master travel with us. Otherwise, you would have been truthful about your intentions and informed Simer that his smuggling partner had a droid and a Wookiee who wished to travel with her. Instead, you created an elaborate lie, one that might backfire upon arrival to Tatooine."

Canderous sneered. "Listen, droid, you gonna stand there and poke holes in my plan for the rest of the trip?"

"Is it your plan. Whether it has ulterior motives remains unseen."

"What ulterior motives?"

"Observation: There were several times during the journey to find the Star Forge where you showed great distaste in Master's choice to mate with the Republic meatbag." Canderous clenched his fist, his knuckles turning white. Still, HK continued. "Your flirtatious attitude towards the meatbag Bastila was a clever deception of your true feelings for Master. I believe that you wish to take her away from Simer and keep her for yourself—especially since you plan on offering her refuge on Dxun. Since the Republic meatbag no longer pleases Master, you are hoping that she instead would choose you to please her."

He gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes. "I'm warning you, metal man."

"Query: Does that translate to—" HK's voice changed to sound like Canderous's "—'Shut up, droid'?"

"Yes!" he snapped. The communication panel began beeping that there was an incoming message. Canderous hit the receive button as he told HK, "And don't do that again with your voice! Creeps the hell outta me." He turned towards the monitor. "Canderous."

A blue, teenage Twi'lek appeared on the screen. _"Hey! It's working!"_

Canderous frowned. "What, the screen?"

"_The hospital droid at the desk said this monitor was busted. But T3—"_

"Mission, I'm in a rather bad mood suddenly," he said through clenched teeth as he glared at HK. "What's going on?"

"_I just commed to say Dustil's awake. He's responsive, and everything, apparently. Well, he has been for a bit. This is the first chance I've gotten to contact you. The doctor's say he's gonna make a full recovery."_

"Well, we'll be certain to tell Revan Dustil's okay when we see her tomorrow."

Mission's face lit up. _"You're gonna see her?"_

"Hopefully," he replied.

"_Well… If you do, could you tell her…"_ She hesitated. _"Could you tell her that she needs to come home? I… I miss her. She doesn't have to see Carth, or anything. I just… I just miss her, that's all." _Zaalbar came into view of the communication camera and woofed that they'd be sure to relay the message. Mission smiled. _"Thanks, Big Z."_

The teenager said her goodbyes to everyone, and Canderous turned the monitor off. "Revan better give us some answers about this situation, or else," the Mandalorian grumbled.

"Query: Or else what?"

Canderous just glared.


	17. Late Night Worries

**Chapter Seventeen: Late Night Worries**

* * *

Two Months Prior:

Revan couldn't sleep. She'd been lying in bed staring at the ceiling for what seemed like hours. It wasn't Carth's soft snoring that was keeping her awake. Something else was bothering her. She'd tried meditating to calm her mind, but it didn't help. All Revan kept thinking about was what would happen once Dustil was found.

They'd only been on Citadel Station a few days, and so far Carth hadn't met up with his son. But they were bound to reunite soon. Then what would happen? Things certainly wouldn't remain the same, but to what extent life would change, she didn't know. And lying in bed all night long wasn't going to give her any answers, nor was it going to help her rest. She glanced over to her left and saw Carth sleeping, blissfully unaware of the thoughts running through her mind. The light from outside their bedroom window cast a faint spotlight across their bed, dimly lighting Carth's face. It was enough to highlight his features, but not enough to wake him. Revan stared at him for a while, and after a few minutes was tempted to reach over and thwack his nose for no reason other than it was there. Instead, she decided to see if a glass of redberry juice would calm her mind and allow her to sleep—although it wasn't as much fun as flicking Carth's nose and pretending to be asleep when he awoke… if he awoke. Revan carefully crawled out of bed, donned a silk, lilac robe over her matching nightgown, and headed for the bedroom door.

All was quiet as she made her way to the kitchen. The others were asleep, and T3 and HK were in their power conservation modes. When she reached the kitchen, Revan quietly grabbed a glass off the shelf and poured herself a cup of redberry juice, then headed for the glass enclosed balcony. Revan stood in the middle of the balcony, watching shuttles fly past as they headed to various sections of the station. But if she looked past the tall, metal towers, she could see Telos, and the craters from Admiral Karath's attack. The last time she'd been in orbit above Telos was just before Malak ordered the planet's destruction. She'd never been on the planet's surface—and judging from the looks of it, never would—but she had seen pictures of what the cities and towns had looked like prior to the war. Revan could only image what it was like to live on Telos, and the life Carth and his family led.

But everything was different now. Carth had shown some signs of accepting the change, but she could still sense his pain of the constant reminder of the war. The wounds from five years ago were still fresh in his mind, no matter how hard he tried to move on. Carth said he'd been able to let the memories of his wife go, but Revan could still sense his thoughts lingering back to her, especially when he thought of Dustil. It wasn't anything for her to be angry about, and Revan certainly didn't want Carth to completely forget about his wife. But at times she did feel uncomfortable sensing Carth's thoughts, and it bothered her she felt this way. It almost seemed like a competition, but instead of competing with Morgana Onasi, she was competing with Carth's memories. Although certain that wasn't his intent, and holding no jealousy towards his wife, Revan still felt uncomfortable—even though she knew Carth loved her and would never compare her to Morgana or anyone else. Revan felt guilty for what had been done to Telos, even if Carth had assured her he held no grudge against her. But Carth's lingering thoughts only made Revan feel worse.

How would life change once Dustil was in the picture? Revan was fairly certain Dustil wouldn't accept her. Based on things Dustil had said when she met him briefly at the academy, he was close to his mother—closer than he was to his father, at least. He blamed his father for everything, and defended his mother, refusing to see things from his father's point of view. Carth had told Revan there had been arguments between him and his wife. He wouldn't go into specific problems other than his wife hated the idea of him reenlisting with the military. Yet Dustil had stated that his mother had given up on Carth a long time ago, and made it seem his parents were on the verge of separation.

The Jedi Council taught Revan to believe there were three sides to every story. Somewhere between Carth's memories and Dustil's accusations was the source of their issues. Although the two had said they'd meet here to get back to where things used to be, Revan feared the two would never settle their differences. Pessimism might be considered a dark side trait, but Revan didn't particularly care. She didn't need to be a Jedi to know it wouldn't be easy for the Onasis.

Revan wasn't sure how long she'd been standing there staring out the window, but she sensed Carth approaching. She smiled as she felt his hands on her shoulders, pulling her back for a backwards embrace. His arms wrapped around her waist, and he rested his chin on her shoulder.

"What are we looking at?" Carth asked.

"Nothing in particular," she answered. She placed her half-finished glass of juice down on a nearby table, then rested her hands on top of Carth's.

"You often wake up in the middle of the night and stare out windows at nothing in particular?"

Revan smiled. "Only when I can't sleep."

"And why can't you sleep?"

Every time Carth opened his mouth to talk, his chin pressed into the base of her collar bone. She reached up and gently pushed his chin off her shoulder. He raised his head and rested his cheek against the side of her head. "I just… have a lot on my mind, Flyboy," Revan answered. "I tried meditating, but it didn't help."

"Tell me."

_Tell him what?_ she thought. Tell him how she was worried about what Dustil would think of her? How she knew when he was thinking about his wife? How life would change once Dustil was in the picture? "It…" Revan hesitated. If she told him what she was really thinking, it might hurt him. Carth's family was his life, and if Revan came across as critical or upset over his own thoughts towards them, or her own concerns about Dustil, it could lead to trouble. "It's nothing."

"If it was nothing," he said, "you'd be asleep."

Revan sighed.

"Did you have another vision?"

She thought about lying, but dismissed the idea. "No, it wasn't a vision."

"C'mon, Beautiful," he said. "I can't help you if you won't tell me."

"I'm…" She sighed and decided to just come out and say it. "I'm worried about Dustil."

Her voiced concern was met with silence. Finally, Carth asked, "In what regard?" His tone indicated he was puzzled, not angry or upset. She wondered how he'd respond once she finished.

"I'm worried about how he'll react to me," she whispered.

"What, knowing that you used to be a Sith?"

"Well, that, too," she sighed.

There was another long pause. "Oh. About me and you."

Revan sighed. _The last swoop bike finally crosses the finish line,_ she thought.

Carth gave her a squeeze. "C'mon, have a seat."

"Why?" she asked.

"So we can talk about this."

"Now?"

"This is as good of a time as any," he said. "We're both awake, and everything's quiet. We don't have to worry about Mission suddenly running saying what weird thing Zaalbar did or how HK threatened someone else—"

"But it's the middle of the night," Revan said. If they started discussing things now, who knew how long they'd be awake.

"It's also on your mind," Carth said. "And if we don't talk about it now, then I'll be up wondering what you're thinking." He released his embrace and sat down on one of the chairs behind them. Revan turned around. Just like months ago on the Ebon Hawk, he hadn't bothered to get fully dressed before seeking her out. He was wearing a pair of pants with the words 'Republic Navy' written down one pant leg in Basic. His feet and chest were bare, and his hair darted out in several directions. He was sitting back in the chair, slouched, his elbows resting on the arms of the chair and his fingers laced together resting on his stomach, and his legs extended in front of him. Carth looked up at her, waiting for her to sit.

Revan shook her head. "Maybe now isn't a good time."

"No," he said. "No, let's talk about it now."

She tried brushing it off. "Maybe I'm just paranoid. It's… it's nothing."

"Do you think Dustil won't accept you?"

Revan looked at Carth. He wanted an answer to his question. "His father's in love with a Jedi?" she said. "Throw in the fact I used to be a Sith Lord, and…" She stopped. "Look, our relationship is complicated. The two of _us_ barely understand it. How in the galaxy are we going to explain us to Dustil?"

"What's there to explain?" Carth asked. "It's not up to him to decide who I choose to be with."

"But it matters to him," she said. Revan waited to see if Carth would piece together what she was trying to say, mainly because she wasn't sure how to put into words her fears.

"You think Dustil will think you're his mother's replacement?" he asked. "But you're not."

"But to him I might be," she whispered. "And that's at best."

"At worst?"

She gave him a sideways look. "Come on, Carth. What was my previous occupation?"

Revan saw his face fall. "You're just worried he'll have the same reaction I had," Carth whispered. "After the _Leviathan_ when…" His voice trailed off.

"And how it'll make things worse between the two of you," she finished. "For him to find out that the person responsible for the death of his mother is the same person sharing a bed with his father?"

"But you aren't responsible—"

"Malak may have given the order, and Karath may have followed through," she said, "but I was the one in charge. I'm still responsible."

Carth stood up. He gently placed his hands on her slender shoulders. "No, you're not," he whispered. "And if they taught him any history at the academy, then Dustil should know it was all Malak."

"Should," she repeated.

"You seem to be forgetting he was training to be a Sith," Carth said. "Even if he does hold you responsible, you have to remember he went ahead and joined the side that killed his mother. He can't exactly cast stones, and he can't tell me what to think."

"It's also not that simple," Revan said. "And you can't tell Dustil what to think, either. If he's angry, you have to let him be angry, even if it hurts."

"Sounds like you're assuming you know how he's going to react," Carth said.

She frowned. "If his attitude at the Academy was any indication, then I can only venture a guess at how he'll be afterwards. Dustil has a lot of anger in him. Part of that is his age and the stage he's going through. I remember a lot of padawans Dustil's age being angry, thinking they knew everything, and frustrated that their masters were holding them back. Look at what Juhani went through with Quatra." When Carth said nothing, she continued. "Part of his anger comes from his Sith training, too. While the Jedi teach to suppress fear and hate, the Sith embrace it. For four years Dustil was taught to give into his anger. For him, it fuels the way he wields the Force. He doesn't know any other way, and doesn't know how to control it because he never had to before. All he knows is anger. And once he discovers who I am? We'll be lucky if he doesn't attack right then and there."

"So that's your theory?" he asked. "He's a teenager with issues?" Revan tilted her head and looked at him. Carth sighed. "Okay, dumb question."

Revan smiled. "Flyboy, I know you want everything to go back to the way it was before. It will. But not without a lot of turbulence first. And possibly some engine failure." She reached up and cupped the side of Carth's face. "Dustil loves you. He may not like you, and he may say things in anger he doesn't mean, but he'll always love you. I could feel it when we found him at the academy. He really did mean it when he said he wanted to meet up with you on Telos and get back to the way things were. He was happy to see you again, despite the circumstances." She bit her lip. "I'm just nervous about what will happen once he discovers his father's girlfriend started the Jedi Civil War. That's a conversation that I'm not looking forward to, even though we both know it has to happen."

Carth sighed and pulled her into an embrace. She wrapped her arms around his waist as he tucked her head under his chin. "You weren't kiddin' when you said this is complicated," he whispered.

"Now you know why I couldn't sleep."

Revan heard Carth softly laugh. "Well, for right now, Gorgeous, let's focus on meeting up with Dustil first. You've done enough worrying for the both of us right now. We can't do anything until the time comes. So let's just get some sleep and focus on other things right now, okay?"

"Easier said than done," she whispered.

"I know, Beautiful." He kissed the top of her head. "I know."


	18. Suul

**Chapter Eighteen: Suul**

Now:

"_You're becoming Darth Revan again!" Carth yelled, his voice echoing inside the Korriban tomb of __Ludo Kressh__. His eyes were full of anger, full of hate. His left fist was clenched, his right hand gripping his blaster hard. Revan could feel the rage brewing inside of him, fueling his words to her. "You haven't been redeemed. You're what you always were. You're what you'll always be! And because of you, my son is dead!"_

_She looked down at Dustil's limp body. He looked like a rag doll that had fallen at Carth's feet. Minutes ago he was full of life… full of anger and confusion. "I'm sorry! I don't know what—"_

"_You're sorry?" His face turned red, eyes narrowing. "You're _sorry_? That's all you have to say? You killed my son! Just like you killed my wife!"_

"_That was Malak! I didn't—"_

"_And I suppose you're going to blame Malak for what you did to that pilot, too, huh?" Carth asked. "The one you stole the Kolto from? Huh? How do you justify those actions?"_

_How did Carth know about the pilot? "I had to make him forget," she said, defending her actions. He wasn't there; he wouldn't understand. "I had no choice. He knew who I was. He remembered seeing me at the Rakatan temple. If he had said anything to Nal, or gave a statement to authorities—"_

"_Excuses!" Carth yelled. "Hiding behind justifications that do _nothing_ but mask your evil! How long are you going to be in denial over this, Revan? Huh? Answer me!"_

_Suddenly she heard Nal's voice. "Hey! You up?"_

_Revan stopped. Where was Nal's voice coming from? Had he suddenly appeared in the room? She looked around but didn't see him anywhere._

"_Hello?" his voice called again. "Liana?"_

Liana's eyes snapped open. She lay in her bed, covered in sweat. Her heart was rapidly beating, and it took her a few seconds to realize where she was.

"Hey! I'm callin' you! Least you could do is reply!" Nal's voice was coming from the intercom on her wall. He sounded irritated. How long had he been calling her? She sat up in bed and rubbed the sleepers out of her eyes just as Nal asked, "Are you dead?"

Wearing nothing but her undergarments and Carth's necklace, she extricated herself from the bed, pushing the sweat-soaked sheets aside, and stumbled towards the intercom. The sweat covering her body made her skin feel clammy and cold, and she suddenly wished she'd wrapped herself in the blanket. Pressing the reply button, she said, "I'm here. Sorry, I… I was sleeping."

"We're landing in Anchorhead soon," he said. "Get your tail in the cockpit."

Her heart was still beating fast, and she needed time to calm down. Liana raked her fingers through her thick, damp hair. Maybe some cool water on her face would help. "Give me a few minutes and I'll be there," she replied. Turning the intercom off, she rested her forehead and the palms of her hands against the cool metal wall.

_It was just a dream_, she told herself, pulling the words from under the layers of sweat and shaking breath. _Just a dream._

* * *

"Where have you been?" Nal asked as Liana entered the cockpit.

"Took a quick shower," she said as she took her seat. She had changed into her freshly-laundered clothes and tied her still-damp hair back in a ponytail. "Sorry. How far out are we?"

_Gambit_ jumped out of hyperspeed, and Tatooine came into view. "Almost there," Nal said. "Look. See? Giant tan planet." Liana rolled her eyes. "Ever been here before?"

Images of the Star Map flashed before her eyes. "A—a few times," she said.

Nal frowned. "Make it sound unpleasant."

"It was."

"Ah." He nodded.

"How long we stayin' here for?" Liana asked.

"Actually," Nal said, "while you were sleeping, I lined us up another job." He flashed a smile. When she didn't return the enthusiasm, the expression disappeared from Nal's face, and he turned back towards the pilot controls.

"You didn't consult with me first?" she asked, irritation in her tone. He had accused her of not being a team-player, taking matters into her own hands with Wayt's men, and now he was agreeing to contracts without her permission? "I thought we were a team?"

"You were sleeping."

"You could have woken me up."

"Sorry."

Liana wasn't in the mood to push the issue further. "So what's the job?"

"Not sure yet," he answered. _Gambit_ entered Tatooine's atmosphere, and began its decent to Anchorhead. "We're meeting face to face with our employer in the East Dune Sea near an old cave just as the sun sets."

_The Krayt Dragon cave_, she thought. A shiver ran down her spine. _Great. Wonder if Calo Nord's body is still there, decomposed down to bone?. _"Why are we going there? And at that time of day, especially with all the sandpeople around?"

Nal flashed a smile. "Gotta take some risks every now and then, Beautiful."

Her eyes narrowed. "I warned you about pet names."

"Why? Is that what the man who gave you the necklace used to call you?"

"That's none of your business!" she snapped.

"I'll take that as a yes."

She changed the subject. "I still don't like this idea of meeting in the middle of nowhere!"

"Yeah, well, that's where he said to meet."

Nal seemed calm about the whole ordeal. That told her either something was wrong or Nal was just incredibly stupid enough to agree to such a remote location to meet with a potential employer. "What's wrong with the cantina?" she asked, attempting to match his composure. "There are plenty of dark corners there to hide in."

"He said the East Dune Sea."

She listed every establishment she could think of, including places where she might be recognized. "What about the Hunting Lodge? Or the Swoop Bike Track? Or the loading dock? Or—"

"Look!" Nal firmly interjected. "The East Dune Sea is where the contact said to meet! I'm sorry if you don't like it, but that's where we're going! This is my ship! I make the calls on what jobs we take and don't take! If you don't like it, I'll leave you here in Anchorhead and you can find some other pirate to take a job with, all right?"

Liana said nothing.

_Gambit_ landed on one of Anchorhead's docks, and began powering down. Liana looked outside the cockpit windows for any signs of people she recognized or delivery men with crates of gizkas. Satisfied, she stood up and followed Nal towards the exit. "How much time do we have to get to the rendezvous?"

"How long do you think it takes to hike there?"

She snorted. "Half a day at the minimum. Maybe you should have landed there instead."

"Ship like mine landing out there? That's just asking for trouble. You lie about how long you've been in this business?"

"Because it would take an experienced pilot to land there?"

Nal snorted. "I'm not justifying that with an answer."

"Because it never occurred to you?"

Nal didn't answer.

They exited the ship, paid the dock fee, then headed towards the city. There were several establishments Liana had to avoid, such as Czerka Offices and Yuka Laka's Droid Shop. She remembered how she had come across HK-47 in that store, and how much the droid loathed the shop owner.

"_Can I break his neck now, Master? It has been a long-time fantasy of mine."_

_Liana's jaw dropped. She looked over at Carth and Canderous for guidance. Carth was just as shocked, while Canderous had his arms folded against his chest and was chuckling. She turned back towards her latest droid companion, who was awaiting her reply. "Uh… Maybe… later?" she said, hoping that was the correct answer._

_HK-47 turned towards the Ithorian. "Do you hear that, meatbag? I will be back!"_

She smiled slightly at the memory, and couldn't help but wonder how upset HK would be that she was on Tatooine without him. She could almost hear the droid requesting to carry out his revenge. As determined as he was to kill anything that moved, Liana missed the droid. She even found herself missing Canderous. Liana hadn't heard any news from the Mandalorian, and wondered why kind of trouble he was causing. She thought of memories from their journey, and how much she missed HK and Canderous comparing notes, Mission and Zaalbar up to all-hours playing pazaak, HK and T3-M4 arguing, Canderous flirting with Bastila only because she had no idea how to respond…

Liana missed them; she missed all of them.

The two walked the streets of Anchorhead, the twin suns beating down on them. It would only get warmer in the desert, so Liana wasn't complaining. They followed the twisted path around the city, eventually making their way to the front gates. Nal seemed to be walking even with her, even taking a few steps back every now and then. It was like he was watching her for something. What was he afraid of? She wasn't going to kill him. Okay, so she scared him. A lot. But he certainly was acting a lot more suspicious now than he had been.

"I'm sorry, sir, but you need a Hunters License in order to exit Anchorhead," the guard at the front gate leading out to the desert said as they approached.

Liana looked at Nal. "Told you."

Nal's eyes narrowed. He turned to the guard. "I don't suppose you can let it slide this once?"

The guard remained stoic.

Nal nudged Liana. "This is a great time for your natural charm to kick in, you know."

Liana glared.

"Okay." He turned back to the guard. "How do we get a—"

"Don't bother," she sighed. "I have one."

Nal looked at her. "You coulda told me that!"

"I told you before that you needed one!"

"But you didn't say that you actually _owned_ one!"

"You would have asked how!"

"You're right!" Nal said. "How did you get it?" He held up a hand. "Wait, let me guess: 'You don't want to know.'" Liana sighed. "Well, come on. Show it to the man, and let's get going."

"Well, I don't exactly carry it on me," she said. In fact, she hadn't a clue where it was; probably in some storage bin on the Ebon Hawk, or back in her footlocker in the Jedi Temple.

The guard extended his datapad. "Since you don't have it, I'll need your handscan to verify."

She placed her hand on the datapad. The small computer beeped. "ID verified. Suul, Liana. Hunters License, Class 2," the datapad said.

The guard nodded, then opened the gate. "Good hunting out there."

* * *

"Suul, huh?" Nal asked as they exited Anchorhead. "I was half-expecting a completely different name to come outta that little datapad. The way you've been so mysterious about your past, I was beginning to believe 'Liana' wasn't your real name."

"Maybe it's not," she said. "Maybe I lied on the application."

"Maybe," Nal shrugged. They walked across the sand in silence for a few moments before he asked, "You related to the Suul family on Corellia?"

A shiver ran down her spine. "Why?" she softly asked.

"I knew a Suul who was from there," he said. "Older man. Big pot belly, bald head. Worked as a droid mechanic. He used to build protocol droids for a living and sell them. Real talented guy—"

"Lieno," she whispered. The name popped into her mind, along with an image of a man who looked just as Nal had described.

"Yeah," Nal said. "Lieno Suul. With the droid shop near the Republic Embassy. You know him?"

"_Now this, little one, is the motorcore. This is what makes the droid talk."_

_Liana, sitting on her father's workbench, mindlessly swung her legs back and forth and looked at him. "Like my voice?"_

_Her father grinned. "Yup. Just like your voice. You gotta be careful with this, though. Install it wrong and your droid could be talking backwards."_

_She giggled. "That'd be funny!"_

"_Funny for you, maybe," he winked. "But not funny for your droid. Now, you wanna learn how to install this? It's easy, but tricky."_

"You okay?" Nal asked. "You went all pale there."

Liana shook her head. "I… I'm fine. Sorry. It must be the heat."

"So do you know—"

"Distant… relative," she lied. "Met him once or twice. I think." Liana bit her lip. _So much for telling the truth. _She looked at Nal. "Is… Is he still building droids on Corellia?" Her voice shook as she asked the question, yet she didn't know why.

Nal shrugged. "Dunno. Haven't seen him in years. Last time I was on Corellia was, what, two years ago? Didn't have time to go look him up. So last time I saw him was… Well, before the Mandalorian Wars, I guess."

"I haven't, haven't seen… Lieno since I was a little girl." Her voice was distant. Liana found herself wanting more memories to come back to her, but none did. She tried to focus on his description, and the glimpse of her father teaching her how to build a droid. But no visions came.

"Did you ever meet his daughter?" Nal asked. Liana's eyes quickly met his. He frowned slightly. "I just remember him telling me he had a daughter, that's all. Something about her leaving to join the Jedi when she was young, after they moved to Corellia, I think. I don't really remember. He just kept rambling and rambling."

"Did he say anything else about her?"

Nal shook his head. "He mentioned it in passing, actually. I wasn't really paying that close attention. I was there to buy some spare parts. He tried makin' small talk, but I had a deadline and was more focused on that. Just remember him bein' nice and chattin' up a storm." He chuckled. "Man, it was so long ago, I'm surprised I even remember the name."

Liana said nothing. She found herself desperately wanting to remember her father, but also knew now was a really bad time for memories to come flooding back, especially since the more intense ones sometimes brought her to her knees. She had been focused on memories of her fall, she hadn't once thought about herself as a child. She'd had a few flashbacks to training as a youngling, several of them with Malak. But not once had Liana thought of her parents. Maybe they were still alive? She wondered how they felt about her becoming a Jedi… and if they knew Darth Revan was really her. Revan was her middle name by birth, after all, but it wasn't exactly a common name. Did they know or have suspicions? Or where they blissfully ignorant their daughter was the Dark Lord of the Sith?

Now just wasn't the right time. They were meeting a man about a job in one of the last places Liana wanted to visit. She needed to be alert and attentive, not thinking back to her childhood. She could plucked the brief memory directly from Nal's brain, but that would not only be an invasion of privacy, but he would no doubt feel it and know something wasn't right. That might lead him to conclude she was Lieno's said Jedi-bound daughter, and then all the other lies would un-ravel from there.

"So how much longer before we're at this East Dune Sea?" Nal asked.

"We still have a ways to go," Liana answered.

"Sooner we leave this place, the better," he said. "Sand in my boots isn't exactly my idea of fun."


	19. Terror

**Chapter Nineteen: Terror**

Now:

Mission flopped down on a chair in the medical facility waiting room. She was exhausted. After storming out on Carth earlier, she and T3 had wandered mindlessly around Citadel Station, taking shuttle after shuttle to different modules simply because it was something to do. The entire time she couldn't shake how furious she was that Carth hadn't informed her of Dustil's condition. Mission had been at the medical facility every day, sitting in the waiting room with T3 hoping that Dustil would wake up, and Carth would finally get his head unstuck from his butt. Then what happens? Dustil wakes up, and Carth doesn't even bother telling her. Even though she had never met Dustil before, she still would have liked to at least been kept in the loop.

She lay down on the bench, bent her legs and pressed the heels of her feet against her backside. Tucking her hands behind her head, she looked up at the ceiling and started counting the tiles. She was bored, but there was nothing else for her and T3 to do. She'd already checked five times to see if there was a message update from Canderous. She hoped they found Revan, despite Carth's current feelings for her. It frustrated Mission to no end that the Republic pilot was acting the way he was, and blaming Revan for Dustil's condition. Yes, he did have a point; Mission hadn't been inside the tomb when Carth and Revan first came across Dustil. But regardless, she had an extremely difficult time accepting that Revan would out-right try to kill Dustil. What was the point? Was her goal to rid the galaxy of the teenager and have Carth all to herself? If that was the case, there were other ways of going about it. Republic boarding academies came to mind. They were expensive, but on Carth's salary they wouldn't be a problem. What about the Jedi? If Dustil was training to be a Sith, it made perfect sense to Mission that Revan recruit him. The Jedi numbers were down to begin with. Why slay a potential candidate? Weren't the Jedi all about redemption and forgiveness in the first place? And didn't Dustil want to give up his Sith roots? It would be a bit hypocritical of Revan to kill Dustil after everything she'd been though.

Mission figured there were two logical explanations to the situation. The first was simple: Dustil hadn't given up his Sith ways, attacked Revan and Carth in the Korriban tomb, and Carth was in denial. It was a plausible rationalization for someone like her who didn't have all the solid facts at her disposal. Plus, to Mission, it made perfect sense… except for the part where Dustil almost died. The other logical explanation was that Carth was telling the truth; Revan had reverted to her Sith ways and killing Dustil was another rite of passage or some junk like that. Knowing what Mission did about Revan, that particular theory held no water. In fact, it raised more questions in Mission's mind than it answered. It would explain Dustil's coma, however.

Mission concluded that she'd never discover the truth until Revan was found. She would trust Revan's story, no matter what it was. She hoped it was the first explanation. As long as she was hoping, Mission also wanted off Citadel Station. She held no ill towards the make-shift floating refuge living space; it wasn't the fault of Telosians that they were cooped up inside. It was the fact that yet again she'd been placed in the middle of an argument. Except this time, Mission wasn't wanted around.

Mission yawned and closed her eyes. She had no clue what time it was, but it most likely was late. She heard T3's harddrive stop chugging as the droid enter his power conservation mode. Mission sighed. "T3?" The droid powered back up and beeped. "I wanna go home. Can you go tell Carth we're leaving for the apartment? Not like he'll care, but I don't want him to suddenly grow a conscious and wonder where I am. I'll wait for ya here."

T3 beeped that he would and rolled off down the hall.

Mission closed her eyes again. At least T3 still liked her. When it was first revealed that Jedi Liana Suul was really Darth Revan, Lady of the Sith, Mission was the first to speak up in favor of her friend. In fact, pretty much everyone was in favor of her. It was Carth who wasn't, and for a time it drove a wedge between everyone. The Republic Pilot had locked himself up in the Ebon Hawk's cockpit while Revan hid in her quarters. Mission was the one who attempted to play liaison between them. But it was clear that her actions frustrated Carth more than eased the tension. It was finding Dustil and convincing him to turn away from the Sith that brought Revan and Carth together again, and had Carth apologizing for the things he had said. Now, ironically, it was Dustil that pulled them apart. So much for promises.

Just like on the _Ebon Hawk_, Mission was trapped as the go-between. And given the fact that Carth couldn't be bothered to keep her up-to-date on Dustil's condition—plus the fact that every time she saw the Commodore they fought—it was obvious that she wasn't wanted. It wasn't Carth's decision to have Mission accompany him to Citadel Station; it was Zaalbar's. Mission didn't blame Big Z for wanting her to stay. Her job was to keep an eye on Carth and make sure he stayed out of trouble. Plus someone needed to keep both sides informed of what was going on. Okay, so she hadn't exactly told Carth she'd been communicating with Zaalbar nor that Canderous was tracking Revan down. But that was because every time she saw Carth they argued. Maybe now that Dustil was awake, Carth would be more receptive to hearing the update. Maybe he'd even want to see Revan and apologize for the things he had said.

Or maybe he'd simply continue to be an idiot.

Slowly, Mission began to drift off to sleep. She told herself to wait until they got back to the apartment, but her exhaustion wouldn't wait. Curling up on her side, Mission figured that a light nap wouldn't hurt. Besides, T3 would wake her up once he told Carth where they were going. What was keeping that droid, anyway?

A loud crash of glass breaking followed by a man's scream echoed through the halls. Mission's eyes snapped opened. "What—"

She heard another painful scream… and it sounded like Carth. Mission stood up and ran full-fledged down the hall towards Dustil's room. "Carth?" she called. "CARTH?"

The only reply was another scream, followed by a shrill, alarmed whistle from T3.

Mission rounded the corner and ran into Dustil's room. She skidded to a stop and gasped. Dustil was standing at the foot of his bed, still wearing the medical bay patient clothes, with look of sheer hatred on his face. His arms were extended in front of him, his fingers curled. Bright light emanated from his fingertips, and was aimed directly at Carth. The Republic pilot lay on the floor of a broken kolto tank, glass shards all around, shaking and screaming in agony as the light from Dustil's fingers struck him.

Without stopping to think, Mission ran towards Dustil and tackled him, sending them both crashing to the floor. "LEAVE HIM ALONE!" she cried. In the background, T3 alarmingly beeped.

Mission began punching Dustil, wrestling with him and trying to pin him to the ground. He struggled, then pushed Mission away with the aid of the Force. The Twi'lek was about to stand back up and try to wrestle the teenage Onasi when she got a look at Carth. Mission froze and gasped at the site before her. The glass shards of the broken kolto tank had left Carth cut and bleeding. The pilot was slumped over, and wasn't moving. "Oh no," she whispered.

Mission suddenly realized just how much she was over her head. It wasn't like she could run away and get help now. She'd just tackled a Sith. Mission's stomach sank. She'd handled her own when Sith attacked before. Course, she had a vibroblade in her hand, a sharp-shooting Republic Officer, and a Jedi to back her up in case things took a turn for the worse. Mission was on her own now, and weaponless. She knew she was no match for the Force-wielding Onasi, but if she could stall him long enough for help to arrive, then she'd done her job. Someone had to be watching the security cameras, given how large a profile case this was.

She quickly stood up and looked Dustil dead in the eye. "I was right about you!" she screamed. "You're still a—"

"This is none of your concern!" the former Sith Academy cadet snapped. He held up his right hand.

Mission suddenly found herself flying backward across the room. With a painful thud, she hit the wall.

That was the last thing she remembered.

* * *

Just as Canderous's shuttle hit Tatooine's atmosphere, the communications panel began to beep. The Mandalorian muttered an explicative, then turned around in the pilot's chair. "We haven't found her yet, Mission," he complained, then pressed the accept button to see what the message was. He frowned. Zaalbar woofed, and Canderous assumed the Wookiee was asking what the message was.

"It's from T3," the Mandalorian answered. "It's a recording. What in the galaxy would he be sending us?" He pressed a few more buttons, and the holovid T3 had sent began to play. Images of Carth and Dustil talking in what Canderous assumed was Dustil's medical room appeared on the screen. "I don't get it," he muttered after watching the recording for a few minutes. He turned the volume up on the recording, in case there was something he needed to hear. Other than a heated argument, there was nothing—

Suddenly Carth was sent flying backwards. Canderous's eyes widened, and he and Zaalbar sat in stunned silence as the rest of the recording played. The Wookiee even managed to remain quiet as Mission's fight with Dustil played. After it ended, the two continued to sit in silence. Finally Canderous spoke. He whispered a chain of expletives, then turned to Zaalbar. "We've got to find her and fast," he said. Zaalbar softly moaned in agreement.

The Mandalorian quickly turned back around in his chair. "I'm landing this thing by the Krayt Dragon cave," he said. Zaalbar woofed something Canderous didn't understand, and HK was charging in the back of the shuttle and couldn't translate. "Revan no longer gets any options from us," Canderous continued. "We grab her and bring her ass to Citadel, by force if necessary." He pointed behind him with his thumb. "Go wake up Trigger-Happy." Zaalbar nodded, then left the cockpit area.

Canderous sighed as he landed his shuttle in the East Dune Sea. "I just hope we're not too late."


	20. Ambush

**Chapter Twenty: Ambush**

Now:

"You sure this is the place?" Liana asked. "This is where we're supposed to meet whomever?"

Nal nodded. "That's what he said." He nervously looked around. "I swear, this is what he said. The old cave in the East. There's the cave, and this is the east."

Liana glanced inside the cave and saw a Star Map at the far end. A chill ran down her spine. She turned back to Nal. "But why meet here for a job deal?"

"Secluded. Out of the way. No one can see us."

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Either he was really nervous about this deal, or he knew something she didn't. For now, Liana decided to pretend she hadn't noticed. "All good reasons for meeting here," she said. She turned and looked at the Star Map again. She couldn't help but notice that all evidence of a firefight between Calo Nord and herself was gone, including the swoop bikes. She also spotted several sets of footprints, and a few more boulders and rocks around the cave than there hadn't been before. Something didn't feel right about this… about being here.

"You sure you're okay?" Nal asked.

Liana snorted. "Speak for yourself. You're jumpier than a Kashyyyk Tach." It wasn't the Star Map that had her feeling this way, or the earlier events. There was something… else. But she couldn't pinpoint it. Something familiar… And she certainly couldn't tell Nal what she was feeling. "I'm all right," she said. "Just… uncomfortable."

Nal snorted. "I may have only known you for little over a week, but 'uncomfortable' is not a word I'd associate with you."

Liana looked at him. "Thanks?"

"Don't mention it." Nal leaned back on his heels. "Well… if they're gonna come, now's as good a time as any." He nervously checked his chrono. "Sun's getting ready to set." He frowned. "We saw that shuttle fly over head earlier. Maybe that was them?"

Liana placed her hands on her hips. "It better've been. We'll freeze walking back to Anchorhead, unless they give us a lift." Nal frowned. Obviously he hadn't thought of that. Liana blew air out of her mouth. She certainly had a way of picking the men she associated herself with. "You have a way of contacting whoever you're getting this job from?"

Nal began to twitch. "Nope."

"Have you ever taken a job from these people before?"

"Nope."

Liana sighed. "Great. What if we're walking right into an ambush?"

"Would you relax?" Nal said. "This isn't an ambush."

A man's voice came from behind Liana. "Yes it is." She jumped as she heard both the sounds of a stealth field generator disengage and a blaster rifle charge. "Drop your weapons. Both of you."

Nal visibly gulped. "Okay, so it's an ambush."

"Weapons! Drop them!" the man snapped. Both Nal and Liana dropped their blasters. The weapons landed on the sandy ground with a thud. "Hands up."

Nal and Liana did as they were told. She felt the barrel-end of the rifle poke her in the back. She took a few steps forward, assuming the man wanted her to stand next to Nal. Escape plans ran through her mind, and she was sure to exclude Mind Wiping from them. Unfortunately there were no pipes lying around, but she could short-out the stealth belt to give the man behind her a gentle yet unconscious-rendering shock.

As she was walking, the mystery man said: "You're an awfully difficult one to track down, Revan."

Liana stopped dead in her tracks. Panic began to set in.

Nal blinked. "Revan?" he asked. "I'm sorry, but you must have me mistaken for another homicidal Sith Lord. I know we all look alike."

Ever-so-slowly, with her hands still up in the air, Liana turned to see who it was behind her. She came face to face with a gray-hair Mandalorian. She gasped. "Canderous." No wonder she had sensed something familiar. There he stood in front of her wearing the same tan pants, black shirt, and red vest from when she first met him.

Canderous smiled. "Nice to see you still remember me, Revan. Or is it back to Liana now?"

Nal's brow furrowed. "Did you just call _her_ 'Revan'?"

Liana wasn't sure how to handle the situation. What the hell was Canderous doing here? Was he the one who contacted Nal for the job? She assumed at this point there was no job. So what did the Mandalorian want with her? She looked around. "What? No backup?"

"They're coming." Canderous nodded towards Nal. "So what are you doin' hangin' out with the likes of him?"

Liana shot the Mandalorian a cold look. "It's none of your business what I do."

"Oh, but it is," he replied. "Seems someone wants you back. And I've gone to an awful lot of trouble to find you."

Someone wanted her back? Was the Jedi Council angry she skipped town? "I won't return to the Jedi," she said, placing her hands on her hips. "You've wasted your time."

Nal blinked. He looked at her. "You're a Jedi?"

Canderous spat on the ground. "I'm not here to return you to the Jedi, Revan. You left—"

Nal interrupted. "Excuse me, Man With The Really Big Gun Still Pointed At Us?" Canderous snorted. "Why do you keep calling her 'Revan'?"

"Because that's her name," he answered, turning to Liana. "Been holdin' out on the boy."

Her eyes narrowed. "He knows what he needs to."

"And the fact you're a former Sith Lord—"

"—was not something he needed to know."

Nal looked at his partner. "Um, actually, yeah, that's somethin' I kinda woulda liked to have known."

Canderous turned his attention back to Liana. "You went away without leaving a forwarding address."

"Just like you did?" Liana retorted.

He ignored her. "You've got everyone worried sick. It's not like you to just up and leave."

"Everyone?" she asked, doubt her voice. "I can think of at least one person who's glad I left."

"I'm sure," Canderous said. "But I bet every credit I own that it's not who you think it is." He reached up with his left hand and gave the visual signal for whoever was with him to come out of hiding.

Liana looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

The sound of HK-47's voice interrupted. "Greetings, Master!" She turned and saw the copper droid walking towards her from the other side of the sand dune. "Observation: I see the Mandalorian has found you! This pleases me so!"

"Great," Liana grumbled. HK and Canderous, together again. Just what she needed.

Nal looked at his partner. "Mister Big Gun is a Mandalorian?" She nodded. He turned to the approaching droid. "And you're that thing's Master?"

The droid took it upon himself to answer Nal's question. "Correction: I am not a 'thing.' I am an assassination protocol droid. The female you travel with is indeed my Master. Master built me during the Mandalorian Wars to assassinate key meatbags. I fulfilled my duties to the best of my abilities. Master was always pleased with my work."

Nal pointed at HK with him thumb. "You built an _assassination_ droid?"

"Yes," Liana said.

Nal nodded. "I suppose every Sith Lord needs one." He looked at her. "So you are Lieno's daughter, aren't you?"

Liana didn't get a chance to respond for HK interjected. "Answer: Master was the only Sith Lord to my knowledge that built a droid of my capabilities. I am pleased, however, knowing that I am the only HK droid. To make another HK droid would be attempting to duplicate perfection."

Nal looked at the droid. "So Darth Revan didn't program you for modesty, I'm assuming?"

HK snapped back at Nal. "Answer: I take great pride in my art, meatsack! As well I should!" He raised his rifle. Nal jumped back. "Statement: I am ninety-nine percent accurate with my targets, and I know every vulnerable area on your meatsack body. I know which areas to hit for instant death, maximum blood output, and great pain. I enjoy watching meatbags die slow and painful deaths as much as I enjoy listening to them scream as I deal the final blow." He took a step forward towards Nal. "Query: Shall I demonstrate for your captor, Master?"

"No," Liana said. "Put the rifle down."

HK lowered his rifle. "Acknowledgement: As you desire, Master."

Nal gulped. "That droid scares me." He paused and looked at Liana. "And for that matter, so do you."

Liana sighed. "You've said that before."

Nal held up a finger. Liana could sense nervousness and confusion from the smuggler. He looked even more uncomfortable now than he had been before Canderous arrived. "So, now, wait… This… This was all a set up?"

"Uh… yup," Canderous said.

"This whole thing?" he asked again. "Everything?"

"Yes."

"She's not really working for the Exchange?"

Liana's brow wrinkled. "Who said I was working for the Exchange?"

"No," Canderous said. "She doesn't."

Nal wasn't finished. "And Davik's—"

"—really dead."

"So…" Nal frowned. "You lied to me."

Canderous nodded. "Yes."

"Even about the bounty?"

Liana's brow furrowed. "What bounty?"

Nal winced. "Oh, maybe I shouldn't've said that."

Annunciating each syllable, she repeated her question. "What. Bounty?"

Nal sighed. "I suppose if I don't tell you, you'll just go and pluck it out of my brain." He paused, assumingly to collect his thoughts and figure out how to phase his answer. The primary emotion Liana felt from him was embarrassment. Both uncertainty and fear were close seconds. "Your friend here said there was a bounty on your head, and that if I brought you here—"

She exploded. "You betrayed me because you thought there was a bounty on my head?"

"You scare me!" Nal said.

Liana pointed to HK-47. "He scares me, too! But I'm not going to dismantle him just because of that!"

"Hey," Nal said, pointing to Canderous. "He said you were hired to KILL ME!"

"Do you believe everything strange people tell you?"

"It was a very convincing story!" Nal cried. "Especially the part about the ten million credit bounty on your head if I turned you in! What was I suppose to do, ask you about it?"

Liana turned to the Mandalorian. "Ten million?"

Canderous defended himself. "Look, it was all a lie to get him here. Not my fault Pretty Boy fell for it."

"Hey!" Nal cried.

Canderous ignored him. "There was nothing—"

"You think I'm only worth ten million credits?" Liana snapped.

"Interjection: That is exactly what I said, Master!" HK said. "I was appalled at the Mandalorian's figure, even though it was clearly a ploy to lure your captor into bringing you here. Clearly you are worth more than a measly ten million credits."

Liana wasn't quite sure how to take that. "Thank you, HK," she said.

Nal piped up. "Hey, I didn't take her hostage, droid. She came to me lookin' for a job. Let's just get the story straight, okay?"

"Threat: Do not correct me, meatsack!"

Liana crossed her arms in front of her chest, then glared at Canderous. "So now what? You tricked him into bringing me here. What's your plan now?"

"My plan?" Canderous asked. "My plan is we leave this sandhole."

"Where are you going?" Nal asked. "And please tell me the scary droid is going with you."

"Well?" Liana asked Canderous. "You already said we're not going to the Jedi—"

"Citadel Station," he answered.

She looked at him. "Citadel Station? What is on Citadel Station?"

Canderous's voice became somber. "Carth."

Liana blinked. "Carth? You're here because of him? What the hell does he want from me? He's the whole reason why I left! He said he never wanted to see me again, or did he forget that conversation?" Liana felt her anger grow from slightly irritated at Canderous's lie to a boiling point of insisting she return to Citadel Station. "Now Carth's got you combing the galaxy looking for me? I did what he wanted me to do! _I left!_ I've found a new life without him, and I'm certainly _not_ going back, provided blondie over here doesn't try and cash me in again! There better be a _damn_ good reason for Carth—"

"We don't have time for this!" Canderous snapped. He was hiding something behind his anger, something he wasn't telling her. But she couldn't sense what it was, and at that moment, she didn't particularly care. "I didn't fly all over this Force-forsaken galaxy to have you tell me you're not moving from this idiot's side!"

"Hey!" Nal protested. "I'm standing _right _here! And I am not an idiot!" He paused. "Dumb, maybe. Gullible, certainly. But I'm _not_ an idiot!"

Canderous ignored him. "Let's go, Revan."

Liana's eyes narrowed as she glared at the Mandalorian. "Make me."

Canderous shrugged. "Okay." He aimed his rifle at her and fired.

Liana let out faint cry of pain before falling backwards into the sand.


	21. Devastation

**Chapter Twenty-One: Devastation**

Now:

"You shot her!" Nal cried.

"She's stunned," Canderous said. He slung his rifle over his shoulder, then bent to pocket the fallen blasters. "Figured she'd pitch a fit." He scooped up Revan. "She'll wake up in a few hours."

"Man, is she gonna be angry at you," Nal warned.

"I think you're still at the top of her fodder list, actually," Canderous snorted. He stood up, Revan safely in his arms and unconscious. "Besides, she won't kill me. You might want to stay out of her way, though."

"But I'm not the one who stunned her!"

"No, you're just the one who betrayed her by bringing her here so _I_ could stun her."

Nal paused. "Oh. Right."

Canderous snorted again. "C'mon, HK. Grab Simer, and let's go."

HK jabbed Nal with the barrel of his rifle. "Statement: Come with us, meatsack."

"Wait!" he cried. "Why am I suddenly joining you? I'm the idiot, remember?"

"Simple," Canderous said. "See, normally I'd tell you to get lost, but you know too much. That makes you a hazard to set free."

"Hazard?"

"There're only a handful of people who know who your partner really is," Canderous continued. "And you're now one of them." He turned around and started to walk away. "Therefore, you're coming with us until we decide what to do with you." He paused, then turned around. "Oh, and we're going to need to borrow your ship."

Nal raised an eyebrow. "My ship? What do you want with my ship? Don't you have your own?"

"Explanation," HK said. "Ours is too small to house everyone for the trip to Citadel Station. The Mandalorian proposed we use your vessel for the journey before we apprehended you and reacquired Master."

The smuggler looked at the Mandalorian. "I don't suppose I have a choice in the matter?"

HK cocked his rifle.

Nal winced. "Yeah, I didn't think I did."

* * *

Revan awoke in her bunk on _Gambit_. Every muscle in her body ached, and her head was pounding. With a soft moan, she closed her eyes and summoned the Force to help ease the pain in her body. After a few moments, she sat up and tried to figure out what was going on. The last thing she remembered was Canderous shooting her with a stun rifle. Next she was in her bunk. _Gambit_ was in hyperspace; she could feel it. But where was it headed? To Citadel Station? Or maybe Nal took Canderous and HK out and was making a run for it. It was a possibility, but one she doubted greatly.

Revan reached out with the Force once again and felt the presence of Canderous and Nal in the cockpit. She also sensed Zaalbar on board (who could be a primary indicator as to why Nal didn't flee), as well as HK. "Whole gang's here," she muttered to herself. Deciding that sitting alone in her bunk wasn't going to answer any questions as to why Canderous insisted she return to Citadel Station, Revan stood up and headed for the cockpit. She still felt slightly dizzy, but better than she had. She opened the door to her bunk then jumped back.

"Greeting: Hello, Master!" HK-47 said. "It is good to see you conscious."

"Thanks," she muttered.

"Statement: The Mandalorian estimated that you would awake two hours, thirty-eight minutes, and fifteen seconds prior to now."

"He needs to work on his estimations," she muttered.

"Affirmative."

"What are you doing outside my quarters?"

"Answer: Waiting for you to arise," HK answered. "I am pleased to be back in your service once again."

"Thanks."

"Statement: The Mandalorian gave me direct orders to inform him when you awoke, and to bring you to him. Shall I escort you, Master?"

Revan sighed. "Yes, HK. That will be fine."

Together they headed to Canderous. She was furious at him for blowing her cover, yet oddly enough pleased she no longer was forced to lie to Nal. Revan simply wished the big reveal to Nal hadn't been as dramatic.

As she and HK entered the small cockpit, Canderous turned around in his chair. He was sitting directly behind Nal, while Zaalbar sat in the co-pilot's chair. "Nice to see you up and about," Canderous said. Then he grinned and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Does this constitute as me making you come with us?"

Revan glared.

Nal turned and looked at her. "Canderous here told me all about you."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Bein' evil, Jedi wipin' your mind, havin' you go look for the Star Forge," Nal listed. He paused, deciding to think before he spoke. "Sounded like you had a good time."

Flatly, she replied, "It was thrilling."

"So you're… you're really Darth Revan?" Nal asked.

"I was a long time ago."

"I always thought Revan was a guy."

"It's a pre-conceived misconception," she said with attitude in her voice. Nal simply nodded. He quietly turned back around in his chair. Revan then turned to Canderous and placed her hands on her hips. "So you mind explaining to me why you stunned me and dragged me on board?"

"I didn't drag you," he corrected. "I carried you. And I did so because you dared me. And I won."

"I didn't realize it was a competition," she dryly replied. "It still doesn't explain why we're headed to Citadel Station. Where's your ship, anyway?"

"Back on Tatooine," Canderous said. "Wasn't big enough."

"Observation," HK said. "The furball was most pleased to hear we would be traveling in this vessel. He was most uncomfortable on board the Mandalorian's, and numerous times struck his fur-covered cranium on one of the many bulkheads."

Zaalbar woofed in agreement. He asked Revan how she was feeling, and said that it was good to see her again. Revan thanked him, then turned back to Canderous. "And we're going to Citadel Station because?"

"I'm surprised you don't already know," he answered. "Unless you don't care anymore, which I highly doubt."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't you and Carth have one of those Force bonds, or something?" he asked. "I thought you could feel him—not literally, even though you two used to do a lot of feeling one another—"

"Make your _point_, Mandalorian," she snapped.

"Contrary to what you've convinced yourself, I wasn't sent by Carth," he continued. "If anything, I was asked by Fuzzface and Trigger-Happy to help _them_ find you."

Revan glanced at Zaalbar, then back at Canderous. "Why—"

He pointed to Zaalbar. "Seems you forgot that one owes you a lifedebt—" He pointed to HK with his thumb "—and that one you're responsible for building. All they wanted to do was return to you as their duty tells 'em to."

"Statement," HK said. "The Mandalorian speaks the truth. We were stranded on Korriban and unable to follow after you. The furball and I contacted the Mandalorian so we would not have to sell my blaster for shuttle fare."

Revan figured there was a logical explanation in HK's latest statement, but for now she chose to accept it and move on. "Then what's all this about Carth? If they wanted to follow me, all they had to do was ask. They didn't have to have you ambush me in the middle of the Dune Sea."

Canderous's voice became somber again. "Things… changed. It's no longer a matter of finding you for their sake. Otherwise we wouldn't be headed to Citadel Station."

"So you feel like telling me or keeping me in the dark?"

He stood up and silently gestured for Revan to follow him. "I have something you need to see." Figuring she had no choice in the matter, she followed.

They walked in silence towards the Common Room. As they entered the room, Canderous's tone became soft and solemn. "You might want to sit down." She did as he said, sitting on one of the cushioned benches on the side of the room. Canderous sat down next to her, and pulled a datapad out of his vest pocket. He held it in his hands, and for a while said nothing to her. Revan could feel uncertainty and concern emanating from him. Finally he spoke. "HK tells me you left Korriban because of something that happened with Dustil. He said that only you and Carth witnessed it, and that Carth blames you for what happened to his son."

Revan noted that Canderous referred to everyone by name without any witty wisecrack adjectives. She felt a knot in her stomach. "Yes," she finally whispered.

There was another long pause. Canderous stared down at the datapad. "I need you to believe what I'm about to tell you." He looked at her. Revan's brow wrinkled. She simply nodded in response. He paused again before speaking. "Whatever you tried to do to Dustil didn't work."

Revan let out a faint gasp. He spoke the truth; she could feel it. "You mean…" She couldn't finish the sentence.

She'd never seen the Mandalorian that serious before, but didn't have time to ponder why. "It gets worse," he said, his voice even and sober. "T3 sent me a holovid. Zaalbar and I viewed it. You need to, too." His grip on the datapad tightened. "Dustil attacked Carth."

All the color in Revan's face drained.

Canderous then uttered two words that sent Revan's world crashing down:

"Carth's dying."


	22. Ignored Warning

**Chapter Twenty-Two: Ignored Warning**

Now:

"T3 sent us this message," Canderous said to Revan. "He was in the room when Dustil attacked." He handed her the datapad. "Zaalbar downloaded it to this. You need to see it."

Revan's face was red. She felt like she was going to be sick. "No," she whispered, refusing to accept the datapad. "No, I—"

Canderous hit the play button and pushed the datapad in her hands. He placed a hand firmly on her back and told her to watch.

"…_just worried about you," _came the sound of Carth's voice out of the datapad's tiny speakers. Revan looked at the view screen and saw Carth pacing what looked like a med bay room._ "I was at Citadel Station for two months looking for you. You said that we'd meet up there. After everything was over, remember? Why were you still on Korriban? Why—"_

Dustil's voice interrupted._ "I told you." _She heard T3's gears grind as the image moved to show Dustil in the shot, standing next to his bed and facing away from his father. _"I was stuck on Korriban. I didn't have enough credits to leave."_

"_You could've at least sent me a message." _Carth came into view. _"And don't tell me you didn't know where to send it. Even when you were small you used to send messages to Republic Headquarters, and they always reached me."_

"_And without credits, old man, how—"_

She watched Carth clench his fists and try to remain calm. _"What's your game, Dustil?" _He placed his hands on his hips. _"When I found you at the Academy, you were more than happy to leave the Sith behind and meet me on Telos. What happened between now and then?"_

"_You mean when your Lady Jedi friend found me?" _Dustil's eyes narrowed as he turned and glared at his father.

"_Is this what this is all about? Is this about her?"_

"_I saw what she did to the Sith Academy!"_ Dustil snapped. T3 wheeled backwards and the picture panned out. She heard the droid beep in surprise, but neither Onasi man took notice. _"I saw her kill any student that got in her way!"_

"_The students turned on us after Master Uthar died—"_

"_I'm sure she had a hand in that, too!"_

Carth looked confused. _"Dustil… I don't get it. You were willing to turn your back on the Sith because you found out the truth behind that girl's death—" _

"_Selene."_ Dustil looked at his father as if it were a major insult Carth had forgotten her name.

Carth nodded. "_You were furious at the Sith for lying about Selene's death. Now… now you're acting like—"_

"_Like you and that Jedi took my family away from me?"_ Dustil took a step closer to his father. _"I was at the academy for four and a half years. Four and a half years! They were my family!" _

"_No, your mother and I were your family,"_ Carth corrected.

Dustil ignored him. _"Then you and that Jedi waltz in with a datapad that says Master Uthar killed my girlfriend, and suddenly I'm suppose to just walk away?"_

"_Girlfriend? Selene was your—"_

"_I was furious at the Sith! But then I saw what that Lady Jedi friend of yours did to everyone! She killed my friends! MY FRIENDS! She killed them in cold blood without giving any of them a chance!"_

Revan let out a gasp. She knew Dustil had still been on Korriban when Uthar Wynn died, but it never occurred to her that he witnessed the Academy's uprising, that some of the dead students were Dustil's friends. And judging from the look on Carth's face, he hadn't realized that either. He looked completely horrified and just as stunned as she was. He began tripping over his word, trying to find some way of apologizing. _"Dustil, I'm sorry. We didn't mean—They… they turned on us. We had no choice."_

"_Yeah, I saw," _he snorted._ "And then you wonder why I didn't go to Telos."_

"_Dustil, I don't know what to say. I'm sorry. I didn't realize—"_

"_No, you never do!" _Dustil shouted._ "It's always your way or no way! You and that Lady Jedi saw nothing but Sith! You didn't see kids like me who were forced to be there! Would you have killed me, too, if I was in your way?"_

"_Dustil, you know it wasn't like that! We were attacked! We had to defend ourselves—"_

"_Oh save it, old man! You're always full of excuses, always making yourself the big hero. Yeah, a trained war veteran against a handful of kids—how many medals that get you?"_

Revan watched as Carth took a deep breath, then walk up to his son. _"I'm sorry. I… I really am. Things took a turn for the worst real fast in there. There wasn't—"_

"_It's really amazing how fast you can justify your actions,"_ Dustil snapped. _"Everyone else can commit acts of cruelty but you because you're the big war hero—do you even hear yourself?" _He walked away from Carth.

"_Dustil—"_

"_Even when I was young, you were like this! You couldn't be home because of your duty. You couldn't leave the Republic Navy because you loved being a solider. You couldn't be there when Telos was attacked because the Republic forces were too late. You couldn't be there when Mother died—"_

"_I was there when your mother died!"_ Carth snapped. _"When I found her, she was still alive! I did everything I could to save her!"_

"_Well, it wasn't enough, was it?" _Dustil's eyes narrowed again. He stood firm, his back straight. Revan couldn't help but notice how much he looked like his father. Even his tone and inflection… just like Carth. She bit her lip._ "Now look at how things have turned out. What would she say if she were here, huh? What would she say about me being a Sith? What would she say about that Lady Jedi friend of yours? Think she'd approve?"_

The expression on Carth's face mirrored his son's. _"Lord Malak and Saul Karath killed your mother, Dustil! Yet you were the one who chose to join the Sith by agreeing to be a student at the Academy! You chose to worship Malak as your Lord! What would your mother say to _that?_"_

"_What would Mother say about you being bunk buddies with that Lady Jedi?" _Dustil retorted._ "I saw the way she looked at you at the Academy. I thought there was something going on between you two. But Jedi aren't allowed to love. And then when I saw her in the tomb, she had a blue diamond around her neck. I wonder who gave that to her?"_

"_This is not about her! This is between you and me—"_

"_Did your Lady Jedi tell you what happened in the tomb? Did you bother to listen to her, or did you just send her away because you're always right?"_

"_I know what I saw—"_

"_Yeah, you've got all the answers, don't you?" _Dustil stared his father down._ "There's always some justification, just the way you like things, because you're always right. Just like what happened back on Korriban! I heard you yelling at that Lady Jedi. Didn't even give her a chance to speak, just like you never listened to me because you always knew what the truth was, didn't you?" _

"_Dustil—"_

"_You don't know anything!" _he shouted._ "You make me sick thinking you're above everyone else! You're always telling everyone how things really are! Mother hated that about you, and I hate it, too! You never, _ever_ stop to think you could be wrong about something! Well, guess what? You're wrong right now! But like always, you won't even consider that possibility!"_

Carth was completely confused; Revan could see it on his face. _"What the hell are you talking about?"_

Dustil continued to yell. "_What difference does it make? You've made up your mind! I'm not going to waste my time trying to correct you!"_

Revan saw realization on Carth's face. His certainty was shaken—all he knew for sure was crumbling with Dustil's words. _"What happened back in the tomb?"_

Revan felt Canderous's hand move from her back to her shoulder, like he was trying to brace her. She paid him no attention, her eyes focused on the datapad screen.

"_It doesn't really matter, does it?" _Dustil said in a patronizing tone. _"Carth Onasi knows the truth, and nothing's going to change—"_

"_Dustil!" _Carth snapped, his voice like whiplash._ "Stop that right _now_!"_

"_You can't tell me what to do, old man! So just shut up!"_

"_Dustil—"_

"_I said SHUT UP!"_

Revan watched Dustil raise his arms, his fingertips glowing as he summoned lightening. Carth flew backwards and out of the shot.

"NO!" she cried. The sound of glass shattering made the small datapad speakers crackle. Revan closed her eyes and turned away from the recording as Carth's screams came from the speakers. Canderous held her shoulder tight and tried to keep her steady.

Carth continued to scream in agony as Dustil's rage consumed him. Revan couldn't stand to listen to it anymore. She dropped the datapad, pushed Canderous aside, then ran out of the common room.

* * *

"…Vao! Miss Vao, can you hear me?"

Mission softly moaned. Her head felt like a bantha was sitting on top of it. "Where am I?" she whispered.

"Citadel Medical Facility," she heard a male voice reply. She didn't recognize it. Slowly she opened her eyes and saw a man dressed in physicians' clothes standing next to her… or at least she thought it was a physician. Her vision was a little blurry. She could feel she was lying on a bed, and the sounds of beeping instruments told Mission she most likely was under this man's care. "I'm one of the medics," the man said. "You'll be all right. You received a nasty blow to the head, and your left arm is broken. You're a very lucky Twi'lek."

Mission moaned again. "Big Z always said I had a thick skull." Couldn't the physician do anything about her headache?

"Do you remember who attacked you, Miss Vao?"

Suddenly everything came flooding back. Her eyes grew wide and she sat up in bed, only to wince in pain. "Carth!" she cried, holding her head with her right hand. "Where is he? What happened? Is he okay?"

"Miss Vao, please—"

"Where is he?" she demanded, looking at the physician. Her head felt like it was going to split open. "I want to see Carth!"

"The Commodore is being tended to. You need—"

"What happened to him?" she snapped. "He's my friend! I helped stop the attack! I deserve to know what happened! Tell me how he is!"

"He's in critical condition," the medic answered.

Mission closed her eyes and bit her lip.

"The TSF would like to speak with you once you're feeling better. They want to—"

"Dustil."

The medic blinked. "Excuse me?"

Her eyes began to pool with tears. "Carth was attacked by his son Dustil," she whispered. "I, I don't know why."

"They know," he said. "TSF has reviewed the security cameras. When you feel better, I'll tell the them—"

"I want to see Carth," Mission said, looking up at the physician.

"Later," he said. "Rest first."

"No! I want to see him now!" She started to get off the bed when a wave of dizziness overcame her. She would have fallen to the ground had the man not caught her. "Maybe… Maybe I'll stay here," she whispered as the physician helped her back into bed.

"Just lay still for now, Miss Vao," he said. "Someone will be back to check on you later."


	23. Knock A Little Harder

**Chapter Twenty-Three: Knock A Little Harder**

Now:

All was quiet on _Gambit_. Too quiet for Canderous's liking. He had gotten used to the constant bickering between Zaalbar and HK-47… even if he didn't fully understand Shyriiwook. He was up for a game of Guess What The Wookiee Is Saying to help pass the time and break the silence. But Zaalbar was currently in the cockpit keeping an eye on Nal. HK-47 was on patrol duty, looking for any hostile meatbags that were trying to take his master away. So alone Canderous sat in the common room staring blankly at the floor. He had never been this bored on the _Ebon Hawk._ If only there was a gizka to engage in another staring contest… provided he didn't wake up with a hangover like last time.

Canderous looked down the hall towards Revan's room. She had locked herself up in her bunk and had been there for hours. Course, she was still angry at him for ambushing and stunning her. Not that he could blame her, really, but it was the only way to ensure she'd come with. After showing her T3's recording of Dustil attacking his father, she'd taken the news of Carth's condition hard. Canderous had expected that, even though he tried to take as much care in his words when telling her what happened. Despite Revan's feelings towards the situation surrounding Dustil—whatever the details of the situation may be—it was still clear just how much she still loved Carth. It might have been best at the time for her to be alone with her thoughts, but it had been several hours. He was surprised she hadn't surfaced for at least food or a trip to the refresher. Maybe she had fallen asleep? Either that or she was still crying her eyes out. He had never met a female warrior who cried as much as Revan did. At times it made him doubt her true past. But the way she fought… she definitely was the legendary Jedi Revan. But all the crying… however did Carth put up with her?

However did she put up with Carth's untrusting nature?

Canderous was never one for conversations, and he certainly knew nothing on the topic of How To Deal With A Woman. That was most likely why he had never married and continued to find the occasional pleasure in the arms of a cantina Twi'lek. But Revan needed someone to talk to. It couldn't be healthy holding all her grief inside. Canderous usually vented with the aid of a practice droid or shooting random objects until he felt better. However, there was nothing on board to randomly shoot… with the exception of Nal. Although it technically wasn't Nal's fault Revan ran away with him, plus they needed the smuggler to pilot the ship. So randomly shooting Simer to relieve stress was out of the question, despite how much fun it would be. HK would certainly enjoy the screams and carnage.

Canderous walked over to the footlocker he'd brought over from his own vessel, unlocked it, and pulled out his bottle of ale. As he took a big gulp of the refreshing and mind-buzzing alcohol, he made an agreement with himself that if Revan did not emerge from her bunk in five minutes, he'd go after her. Not that he was sure what to say to her, and the situation would definitely be awkward for at least one if not both of them. Yet it would temporarily cure his boredom.

What if she started whining about Carth, though? Did he really need to put up with that? He never had to deal with that back home. Mandalorian women were just as tough and strong as the men. They never showed any emotional weakness, and would beat up other women warriors for showing even a hint of it. Female warriors were tough, because it was expected of them. If they weren't defending the home and children, they were fighting along side the men. Revan would be the ideal Mandalorian woman—she'd be a role model for all warriors to look up to, and he could really use her influence back on Dxun.

If she'd just stop with the damn crying.

Canderous took another swig of the alcohol. Revan wasn't exiting her room. Maybe she cried herself to sleep? The only way Canderous was going to get any answers out of her is if he went to see her. He took a third gulp for courage, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and placed the alcohol back inside the footlocker. The name of the game was Curing Canderous's Boredom Cleverly Disguised as Talking to Revan about Whatever It was that Happened Between Her and Carth that Caused Such a Rift. Long name. With a bit of a swagger to his step, Canderous walked down the hall towards Revan's bunk.

Upon reaching the door to her room, Canderous knocked three times, then waited. There was no reply. He knocked again. "Revan? You awake?" Still, there was no reply. Sighing, the Mandalorian looked at the locking interface and wished either T3 or Mission were around to slice into it. He wasn't very good when it came to hacking. Sure, he could repair the occasional rifle, droid, or swoop bike. But delicate hot-wiring? Nothing Mandalorians did was delicate. He frowned at the locking interface and wondered if blasting it would get the door open.

Then again, he could always check and see if the door was locked in the first place. He reached for the handle and turned it. The door opened with ease. Canderous snorted.

Revan's bunk was dark. Not a single light was on inside, the only light coming from the open doorway. Was she even inside her room? He looked towards her bed and saw a lump underneath the blankets. She was there. But was she awake?

"Revan!" he sharply said.

The lump jumped.

She was awake now.

Revan turned on her side and looked at him. She winced. "Shut the door."

Canderous stepped inside and shut the door behind him, cutting off the only source of light. "It's dark in here."

Revan groaned. "Thank you, Captain Obvious."

"Were you asleep?"

"Yes."

"But you're awake now."

"Again with the keen Mandalorian powers of observation." The light above Revan's bed turned on, giving off a dim light. He saw her half-laying on the bed, looking extremely irritated. "Is there a reason you woke me up?"

"You've been inside your bunk since you saw T3's recording." He saw Revan shrink back at the mention of the video. "I thought maybe you'd… you'd want to talk."

Revan blinked. "Talk?"

"Yeah."

"To you?"

"That's the general idea."

"To the man who ambushed me, blew my cover, stunned me, then decided to drag me back to Citadel Station without even asking me if I wanted to go there in the first place?"

Canderous thought for a moment, then nodded.

Revan flopped back down on the bed and draped her right arm over her eyes. "If I wanted to talk to someone, I would have said something. So for now, kindly leave my bunk before I forcibly remove you."

Canderous sat down on a footlocker near her door.

"Emphasis on 'Force,' Ordo."

Canderous ignored her. "So tell me what exactly happened in the Korriban cave that caused you to run away."

Revan rolled over, turning her back to him. "I have nothing to say to you on that subject."

"I understand Carth carried Dustil out of the cave," Canderous continued, trying to get some kind of reply out of her. "He had a lot of injuries, and he was rushed back to Citadel Station. Working theory is you're responsible for what happened, and that you and Carth had an argument—"

"It wasn't my fault!" Revan cried.

Canderous said nothing. The bunk filled with silence. Softly, he said, "Tell me what happened. I know Zaalbar's story, and HK's. I want to know why you don't want to go back to Citadel Station. Not that I want to go there myself, but that's not the point. Carth's close to death, and—"

"You don't understand," she whispered.

"That's why I'm asking," he said. "You have my word. On Mandalore's grave, I won't tell a soul."

Revan said nothing.

Canderous decided to change the subject. "So how's life with Nal? Enjoying smuggling?"

She rolled over and looked at him. "How come you're here?"

Canderous raised an eyebrow. "I thought you and Carth figured out how that works?"

Revan ignored him. She sat crossed-legged on her mattress. "Why did you come out of hiding to look for me?"

"I never was in hiding," he said. "I've been on Dxun since leaving Coruscant, gathering the remaining Mandalorians, building up the clan."

"Self-appointed Mandalore?"

Canderous shrugged. "Guess you could call it that."

"So that's what you've been doing all this time?" Revan asked.

Canderous nodded. "Until the Wookiee and killer droid sent me a message saying you'd run off. I left Dxun after leaving orders with my men to take care of things while I was gone, picked your friends up on Korriban, and started tracking you down."

"Why?"

"To find you."

"No," Revan said. "Why did you look for me in the first place? Why did you—"

"Because I'm a man of my word," Canderous said. Revan said nothing, but he could see by the look on her face there was some appreciation for what he had said. After a few more seconds of silence, he asked, "So why did you run away?"

Her face fell. "Canderous, I… I know you spent a lot of time and resources to find me. And I appreciate the decision you made to leave your clan behind on Dxun, but…" Her tone started to waver and fall to a whisper. "I'm just not ready yet. Everything I thought… it was wrong, and… I should have just stayed."

Canderous's voice dropped to a whisper, as well. "What do you mean that everything you thought was wrong?"

Revan's face turned red. He could see her trying to keep her composure. "I thought I had killed Dustil."

The words were painful for her to say. Canderous waited a few moments before softly asking, "What happened?"

"I… I don't want—I can't."

Canderous realized he had jumped right into the uncomfortable zone. Revan, the warrior he had admired since the defeat of his people, was on the verge of an emotional explosion. This wasn't exactly what he wanted, nor did he know how the handle the situation. He had been hoping for a conversation about the unknown events within the Korriban tomb, not… well, not this.

Revan must have been able to sense what he was thinking, for she wiped her tears away and mumbled an apology. "This is a lot for me to handle right now."

Canderous nodded. "It's a lot for the rest of us, too. It's just hit you harder because you know more than we do." Revan said nothing. She looked like the wilted plants in Kashyyyk's shadowlands. He stood up. "Look, if, uh… If you decide to talk about what happened, I'll listen. I'm not very good at it, but I'll listen to you. I'll be in the common room—"

"He attacked Carth."

Canderous blinked. "What?"

She looked up at him. "Dustil attacked Carth."

The Mandalorian was puzzled. "Yeah, that's why he's—"

"Inside the tomb. He attacked Carth, and… and I stepped in…"

Canderous sat back down. "I'm listening."


	24. Inside The Tomb

**Chapter Twenty-Four: Inside The Tomb**

Fifteen Days Ago:

Revan stood outside the entrance to a Sith tomb. She hadn't remembered the tomb being near the back of the Shyrack cave the last time she was inside. Then again, she had been focused on clearing a path for the Sith students attempting to escape. Maybe the entrance had been blocked by fallen rocks? But who would go and clear the debris away? Revan felt uneasy. There was something wrong, something that made her skin crawl. She could sense darkness engulfing the entrance of the tomb, far worse than the other ones in the valley.

Carth's voice broke through the distant echoing sounds of screaming shyracks and falling rocks. "So are we going inside?"

"Wait," she said. Slowly she stepped forward and looked for any indication of whose tomb it was. In the background she heard Carth mutter something, but didn't pay it any attention. She could sense his impatience and nervousness as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Sighing, she turned to him. "I have no idea whose tomb this is."

"What difference does it make?" he asked. "I went through the other tombs here with you."

"I know," she said. "But something… something's not right with this one." Revan turned back around and approached the entrance. Carefully she extended her hand and began feeling the stones. There had to be some kind of engraving somewhere on the exterior… unless no one knew which tomb this was. She thought back to her Sith history lessons from her brief time at the Academy. Ajunta Pall, Marka Ragnos, Tulak Hord, and Naga Sadow were all laid to rest here. There were other Sith Lords of that era, but her mind was drawing a blank.

"Something not right on Korriban?" Carth snorted. "Imagine that."

"There's darkness inside this tomb," she said. And if Carth would shut up long enough to let her think, she might be able to figure out whose it was by process of elimination.

"Thanks for the newsflash, sister."

Revan turned to him briefly and matched Carth's scowl. His impatience and angered state were clearly brought about by the darkness in the area. She could identify it and control it, but as an untrained Force sensitive, Carth was unable to separate his own emotions from those induced by the dark side. "This is different," she told him. "We didn't go inside this tomb last time we were here, and I don't know what specifically is inside. There's something… wrong. I can feel it."

"What's wrong is we're standing here in front of this fracking cave instead of finding my son! So let's go!"

Earlier that morning, when they were in Dreshdae, Revan sensed Dustil in the Valley of the Sith Lords. After landing in the Valley, they had quickly investigated the tombs, but found no trace of Dustil. After some time, the dark side energies began to inhibit her from sensing anything other than darkness. She couldn't feel Dustil anymore and told Carth of this. The only thing they could do was focus on the Shyrack Cave, where Revan originally sensed Dustil's presence. Revan and Carth began to explore every path and every corner of the cave. But all they found were skeletons of Sith, and the occasional Shyrack. Fighting off the winged creatures had slowed Carth and Revan's search, aggravating and frustrating them even more. They were dirty, tired, and bombarded by relentless dark energy.

"We're wasting time!"

Revan bit her lip. "We've waited this long," she said, continuing to search for an engraving. "We can wait a few more minutes."

Carth snapped back at her. "Why does it matter you know whose tomb this is? How bad can the traps be? It can't be any worse than what you went through at that tomb you found the Star Map in."

Revan found it peculiar that Mr. Paranoid had suddenly turned into Mr. Impatient. Normally Carth would side on caution, which was why during the first few months she'd known him she was convinced he wore mesh underlay to bed. But now he was being insistent, almost willing to run in where Jedi Masters fear to tread. "It could be worse," she corrected. "Each tomb is different. The Ancient Sith didn't want tomb raiders disturbing them." She nervously glanced around. "Just… give me a few minutes." Revan closed her eyes and felt out with the Force. There was so much chaos, so much darkness. She hadn't felt this since she was a padawan—the first time.

A chill ran down her spine as a name floated in her head: Ludo Kressh. Could… could this be his tomb? Memories of her Sith lessons suddenly surfaced. If this was the Ancient Sith Lord's tomb, then this could mean trouble. Kressh's tomb was supposedly filled with echoes of his dark side energy, which caused the Force Sensitive to experience lifelike hallucinations. She remembered having to venture through a similar cave during her original training as a youngling. The cave had been rumored to be place where a Sith had died. The hallucinations she experienced had been so realistic… And she had been so angry at Master Zhar for making her go inside the cave in the first place.

"If there's traps inside," Carth said, "then we need to get in there right away to save Dustil!"

"Flyboy, please!" she said, trying hard not to get angry. "Calm down! We don't even know if he is in there! I can't sense him, I can't sense anything—"

"We've looked everywhere else! He has to be in there!"

"We've been searching for hours all over the place—he could have left while we were preoccupied fighting. You don't understand how dangerous it could be in there."

"You don't understand how badly I need to find my son! Dammit Revan, you don't want to find him, do you?"

"What are you talking about? Of course—"

"Did you hear that?" Carth suddenly cried.

Revan looked at the pilot, and saw panic etched on his face. "I didn't hear anything," she said. Everything was quiet.

"That was Dustil!"

"I don't hear—"

"I heard him!" Carth insisted. He took several steps towards the entrance to the tomb. "Sounds like he's under attack!"

Revan, as calmly as she could, said, "Carth. I don't hear anything." She could tell by the look on his face that he clearly had heard—or was currently hearing—something she wasn't. A Force hallucination? "There's no sound. The tomb is—" He ignored her, and headed towards the entrance. "Carth, _WAIT_!"

But it was too late. He was already inside. Revan ran after him, but he was gone. The last thing she saw was Carth's back as he vanished into the darkness of the entryway. She stood inside and called his name, but there was no reply.

Carth was an untrained Force Sensitive inside a tomb that caused life-like hallucinations. Other than serving him right for not listening, it was a formula for disaster. "Carth?" she called again. "CARTH!" Still, there was no reply. Revan clenched her fists, took a deep breath, then walked through the cave. Under her breath, she whispered, "There's nothing inside but what I take with me."

It didn't help, however. She jumped at every little noise, and the tiny hairs on the back of her neck were standing straight up. Paranoia began to set in, just as it had the first time she walked through a similar cave. She couldn't sense anything inside the tomb. She'd never been inside a place like this with another individual to be able to tell the difference between reality and illusions.

"Oh, this is not good," she muttered.

Revan continued to walk forward despite everything in her being telling her to turn back. She heard voices in the distance, and started walking towards them. They were soft whispers, and she couldn't make out the words. She took her lightsabers off her belt and gripped the hilts tight. The more she walked forward, the louder the whispers got. Chills ran down her spine as the voices slithered against the stone walls of the tomb.

"_Revan's here."_

_"Revan."_

_"It's Revan."_

The voices continued to grow louder and louder, but she saw no one. Then she realized it wasn't individual voices; it was the same voice talking over itself. A male voice… She'd heard it before, but she couldn't place it.

"_She's a Sith?"_

"_She can't be a Sith!"_

"_I won't allow it!"_

"_How could he do this to me?"_

"_I'll kill him for what he's done!"_

Shadows flickered at the edge of vision, making Revan dart her gaze around, looking to see what it was following her as she walked along the cold, stone corridor. The voice was getting louder, and Revan was growing more paranoid. Her heart was beating fast, and her palms were sweaty.

"_He can't love a Sith!"_

"_It's wrong!"_

"_He's betraying her memory!"_

"_What would Mother say?"_

"_What would she say?"_

"_What would she say?"_

"Dustil," Revan gasped. It was Dustil's voice echoing through the tomb. For months she'd been afraid that Dustil would not accept her in his father's life; that he would view her as his mother's replacement, and never forgive his father for loving a Sith. And the dark side energies in the tomb were feeding off her fear.

"_I'll kill her!"_

_"Kill her!"_

_"Kill him!"_

_"Kill father!"_

The voices were growing stronger and more intense. She felt like she was being attacked, even though the corridor was empty. Revan couldn't sense Carth, she couldn't sense Dustil. She couldn't sense anything. Her breath grew heavy as she pushed forward, looking for any sign of either Onasi man.

And then she saw a figure, standing at the end of the hall. An outline of a man. Revan stopped in her tracks. She glanced behind her, then back at the shadowy figure.

"Carth?" she hesitantly called, hoping it was him.

A second figure appeared, then a third and a forth. The figures slowly approached, each talking rapidly, one right after the other.

"_Father abandoned us!"_

_"He abandoned mother!"_

_"He'll abandon us again!"_

_"He loves Revan!"_

_"Revan the Sith!"_

Four Dustil's stood in front of her, igniting their lightsabers.

"_Revan should die for what she did!"_

_"Father should die for loving her!"_

_"How could he do this to us?_

_"How could he?"_

Before Revan could do or say anything, all four jumped to attack. Revan leapt back to avoid being hit. The four Dustils began closing in on her, all chanting for her death. They fought together like a well-trained Sith attack team. In the back of her mind, Revan heard a voice reminding her that the four Dustils weren't real. She switched her own lightsabers on, then began to fight back. She twirled the purple and cyan blades of her Jedi weapons and went in for the attack. One Dustil screamed as she sliced off his right arm, then he disappeared. Another Dustil raised his weapon over his head, but Revan's own blade sliced him in half before he could attack.

Revan didn't have time to catch her breath. The two remaining Dustils attacked from either side, and she leapt forward to avoid the blows from the blades. She twisted her body and blocked one Dustil's lightsaber while kicking the second Dustil square in the back. Using the Force, she pushed both Dustils back against the wall. As they hit the cold stone with a painful cry, Revan quickly snapped her two lightsabers together, creating one double-bladed weapon. When the two Dustils recovered and rushed her, Revan spun her lightsaber, blocking both attacks at once, then pushed forward with her weapon, catching both Dustils off balance. In one quick motion, she stabbed one Dustil in his chest, then kicked the other in his kneecap. As the second remaining Dustil disappeared, Revan grabbed the last one by his throat, sending him flying across the room.

The tomb fell silent, all the visions of Dustil gone. Revan unhooked her weapons, and just as she was about to place them back on her belt, Dustil's voice rang through the tomb once again, shouting, "KILL HER!"

Revan's lightsabers ignited as another group of Dustils advanced. They rushed her similar to the previous group, and Revan was quick to defend herself, blocking attacks and slicing bodies.

_I can't keep doing this, _she thought as more and more Dustils seemed to appear. _I can't keep killing Carth's son. I have to get away! I have to stop this vision! I have to get out of this tomb!_

Revan used the Force to push the pack of Dustils back, then made a break for it. She ran blindly through the tomb, not even sure if she was running back towards the entrance. She took another turn, running down a side path at full force. She had to escape. She had—

"Another vision! Don't think I can't see through this deception?"

Revan stopped. Before her stood a man… a young man with dark hair and a beard. She started to shake. "What do you want?" she hesitantly asked.

The shape in front of her looked crazed. "Yes, questions. Visions always have questions for Dustil... before the killing starts." He glared at her. "I won't answer!" he yelled. "Hear me apparition! I WON'T ANSWER!"

Revan panicked. "Another Dustil," she said to herself. "No…"

"Of course the vision knows my name!" the false Dustil cried. He began to pace, looking ready to attack. "It is a vision of father's Lady Jedi Friend! She probes my thoughts." He held up a finger and began dramatically pointing. "But I am learning the tricks, I am. Soon I will block them out _entirely_!"

Ludo Kressh's dark side energies weren't exactly being kind. Carefully, her lightsabers gripped tight, she said, "I'm not a vision."

He laughed. "'I am not a vision,' says the vision." He stood on his tip toes. "HA! Well then, I am not Dustil Onasi, son of Carth!" The false Dustil began cackling again. "The vision knows of my father, but does not know I killed him!"

Revan's eyes widened and her heart pounded. She instantly looked for a body, relieved to see nothing but dirt and rocks. First test, a Dustil army; second test, one Dustil, one dead Carth? Revan began to inch backwards down the hall, fearing what this vision's test would truly bring.

The hallucination continued. "I killed Father twenty-two times! He has killed me, too—" He held up a finger "—_but_ I did not die!" The vision suddenly looked sad, and fell to his knees. "He won't be coming back for me, not again. With his tricks. His tricks!" He began to weep. "Oh, Father! Why did you leave?"

Revan treaded carefully. "I don't understand," she said. What did this vision want from her? Why did the vision think she was a vision? The other Dustils had tried to kill her; this one was simply insane. Was the goal of this exercise to confuse the hell out of her? "Tell me—"

He stood up and snarled. "Deceptive vision! Dustil is wise to your tricks!"

Revan stopping her tracks as the vision of Dustil realized she was attempting to retreat the way she'd came, back towards the army of Dustils. "What do you want?"

He began pacing like a kath hound, his head down and his eyes glaring. "The vision of my father's Lady Jedi friend tries to run, but will she sneak up later when I am less aware, sneak up and kill." A lightsaber appeared in his right hand, a ruby-red glowing blade extending from the hilt. "Better to silence her now."

Her eyes grew wide.

"You won't have me!" the false Dustil screamed. "YOU WON'T HAVE ME!"

He charged at her, continuing to scream. Quickly she ignited both her lightsabers, not knowing how powerful—or insane—this form would be. She formed an X with her cyan and purple blades, clashing against the false Dustil's red blade. With a push, she sent his shape staggering backwards.

The false Dustil gripped his hilt. "The vision wants to play," he said, "just like the others. Why a vision of her? Why again? I'll show you! I'll kill you! Like I killed my father!" He let out another battle cry and charged at her.

Revan blocked his attack with her left saber, and began defending herself blow after blow. False Dustil's hands held the hilt tight as he attacked. He had poor technique, but he was powerful, more powerful than the earlier Dustils she'd fought. With him hacking and slashing in a mad frenzy, she was having a difficult time reading his moves and anticipating where the next blow would come from.

His right side was vulnerable. Quickly she raised her right leg and kicked him backwards. He went flying and hit the wall hard. Revan frowned. Why hadn't he disappeared the minute he hit the wall like the others had?

False Dustil jumped back to his feet and raised his left hand. Suddenly Revan's windpipe began to constrict, and she gasped for air, feeling dizzy. With what little strength she had, Revan turned her right lightsaber on and used the Force to throw her weapon at the shape. He quickly raised his blade to block the blow, in the process letting go of his hold on her throat. Revan fell to her knees gasping and panting for air, raising her right hand and catching the weapon as it returned to her. He glared, then charged at her again. Revan scrambled to her feet, met him half-way and attacked first. But he was prepared. When she brought both sabers down to attack, his one blade blocked her two. He pushed against her blades, his eyes narrow and focused on her.

Suddenly Carth's voice came from behind her. "What the hell—"

Now the dark side energies were bringing Carth into this hallucination. Maybe that's why the false Dustil hadn't disappeared when she flung him against the wall; she hadn't completely conquered her fear.

"Father is back," he sneered, looking directly at Revan. She saw pure hatred in his eyes. He pushed hard against her sabers, and she briefly lost her balance. "This will be twenty-_three_ times!"

"NO!" Revan screamed. Without thinking, she leapt forward towards the form of Dustil, the embodiment of her fear that she would one day harm Carth, and raised both sabers to attack. False Dustil was caught off-guard and raised his saber to defend, almost too late. Their sabers met with a loud crash.

Revan didn't give the vision a chance, just like with the first Dustil Army. She was a former Sith Lord… and she felt anger towards Dustil. And she let the anger flow through her.

Revan heard Carth scream yell for her to stop, but she ignored him. She let her anger control her actions, and each strike with her lightsabers became more and more powerful. She was going to conquer this fear, even if it meant killing this version of Dustil like she had the others.

"_STOP!_" Carth screamed.

Revan pressed both of her sabers up against false Dustil's and pushed him off-balance. She then extended her right hand, clutching the teenager by the throat with the Force, then threw him to the side of the room as fast and hard as she could. False Dustil hit the rock wall hard, then fell to the ground like a rag doll.

"_DUSTIL!"_ Carth ran to his son's side, getting down on his knees.

Revan gripped her sabers tight. False Dustil wasn't moving. Having defeated the young Sith, she waited for the vision to finally fade away.

But the vision remained motionless on the floor.

"Dustil!" Carth cried. "C'mon, son, talk to me! Say something!" Revan watched as he checked his son for injuries. "Wake up! Wake up! Please, don't be dead! Oh Force, please don't be dead…"

Revan's heart sank. Was it possible… Was Dustil… Was that _really_ him? Was that really Carth, too?

Chills ran down her spine. This wasn't a test… This was real.

"Oh no," she softly gasped.

Revan suddenly felt like she was going to pass out.

Carth looked at Revan, his son cradled in his arms. "What the _hell_ was that?" he cried. His eyes were full of anger. She hadn't seen this much hatred in Carth's eyes since he encountered Saul Karath on the _Leviathan_. "Why?" he demanded. "WHY!"

Revan stumbled over her words. "He… attacked—"

Carth's eyes narrowed. "And that gives you reason to _kill my son?_"

"I… I didn't—"

"What happened to Jedi mercy?" he snapped. Revan could feel his fury gather force inside of him, fueling his words to her. "Was this your plan all along, to kill him? It's bad enough you killed my wife and destroyed my home! How much more do you plan on taking away from me?"

"Carth, please! Listen to me! Dustil's dangerous—"

"The only one dangerous here is _you!_"

"Carth, please!" she begged. "You have to believe me! I thought—"

"You're a _monster!_ I never want to see you again!"

Revan began to slowly step backwards. "Carth, I… I'm sorry! I didn't—"

"You didn't what?" he screamed. "You didn't _think_?"

"I thought I was—"

"You thought _wrong!_"

"I—"

"Get out of here! _Get out of here NOW!_"

_

* * *

Most of Dustil's dialogue copyright 2004 LucasArts and Obsidian. _


	25. Loyalty

**Chapter Twenty-Five: Loyalty**

Now:

"That's it?" Canderous asked. "That's what all this is about? Republic wouldn't listen, and now the entire galaxy's turned upside down because of it?" He leaned back and muttered a curse.

"That's why I left," Revan softly said. She stood up and leaned against the wall of her quarters. "I thought Dustil was a vision… After what I did… I couldn't stay. I…" She clutched her stomach. "And now to find out that, that I didn't kill him. And to see what he did to Carth… I don't know what's worse." She looked at Canderous. "I could have sworn Dustil was dead."

The greatest warrior in the galaxy was reduced to tears because a teenager was alive. Were all Jedi like this? Is this why the Council banned emotions? It would be a good reason to. He shook his head. "I'm not going to pretend I'm good at this, cuz I'm not, but if there's anything I can do—"

"You can leave me here and let me keep working with Nal."

Canderous's face fell. "What?" He was shocked. "But Carth—"

"He wanted me to leave and I did," she said. "How does anyone know he wants me back?"

What was her game? "Revan, what are you talking about? It's not like we're meddling in this situation and bringing you to Citadel to force you two to sit down and talk. This is Carth's life we're talking about! His own kid turned on him. I don't care who you are, that's not right!"

"Maybe it is."

Canderous couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What—"

"He didn't listen to me when I said something was wrong," she said. "Instead, he fought to protect Dustil and ignored what I was trying to tell him. Dustil wakes up, attacks Carth, and now Carth is the one injured."

"What the hell has gotten into you?" He stood up and faced her. "I saw the look on your face when you watched T3's recording. I saw the fear in your eyes. And I heard the pain in your voice just now when you told me what happened on Korriban. You may be trying your best to deny what you're feeling because you're holding a grudge that doesn't mean bantha fodder right now, but you still love that Republic solider."

"I'm not holding a grudge."

"Then what the hell—"

"It would never have worked out between me and Carth," she dismissed. "Love is forbidden by the Jedi and for good reason. It's only gotten me in trouble or caused trouble for me. It's better this way. It's better that I left. If I had just listened to the Council in the first place and not let myself fall for that pilot, none of this would have happened."

Canderous crossed his arms and looked at Revan askance. "Then why are you still wearing his necklace?" he asked. Revan looked at him, startled. He continued. "Didn't think I knew the significance behind that blue rock? I may be Mandalorian, but I still know other world customs." When she shot him an inquisitive look, he sighed. "All right, so Zaalbar and HK told me. The point is, if you were trying to live a wholly new life, you would have gotten rid of everything that reminded you of your past. That includes that necklace."

Her hand reached up and wrapped around the stone. She closed her eyes and hung her head, holding the gem tight.

Revan looked wretched, like a lonely pup. He'd only seen this side of her a few times, and it pained him to see the warrior who brought the galaxy to its knees looking like a lost child. Canderous frowned. "You're scared, aren't you?" he asked.

Revan said nothing.

Canderous repeated the question, his voice softer. "You're terrified of going back and seeing him," he added. "You think you're responsible for Carth being in that bed. You'd rather run away than face this situation head-on and try to make amends."

"I didn't say that!" she snapped.

"But it's what you're thinking." He took a few steps closer to her. "You can't control Carth's actions. You can't control Dustil's, either. Hell, you can't control anyone—unless you're doing that Mind Trick, but, but that's not the point." She raised her head and looked at him. "I know you feel responsible, but you're not. You had no control over the situation."

"Why did you really help find me?" she whispered. "It wasn't to tell me that."

Canderous shook his head. "I wanted to know why you ran off. The plan was to find you, hand the Wookiee and droid over, and ask why you left. I was also going to offer you refuge on Dxun if you chose not to continue roaming the galaxy with Simer."

"And if I chose to go to Dxun?"

Canderous blinked. Would she have? Would she have decided to go to Dxun? It would mean so much if she would.

She was staring at him, waiting for an answer. "I didn't think you'd pick that as an option," Canderous quickly said.

Her eyes twinkled. "Now who's the one lying?"

His brow furrowed. Did she know what he was thinking?

"Your thoughts deceive you, Mandalorian."

She knew. Canderous looked into Revan's eyes. His mind jumped to the memory of the conversation he and HK had before, and how the droid accused him of suppressing romantic feelings for Revan, and that he secretly wanted her by his side.

But that wasn't true, was it? Was HK right? Was Canderous doing all of this because he wanted her? HK was only a droid programmed to be an assassin, not a relationship counselor. But still, HK could be right… couldn't he?

Revan took a step closer.

Canderous's heart pounded in his chest. HK was right about one thing; it did upset him that Revan and Carth got along as well has they did—or rather had. But it was Revan's choice to be with Carth, and he respected that. But Republic wasn't exactly in the picture right this very second, was he? And she said she didn't want to go back to Citadel Station. Maybe she would come to Dxun… to be with him. Suddenly every fiber in Canderous's body wanted her next to him. He could almost taste her… and oh, how he could please her. Several possible ways ran through his mind. Canderous lowered his head towards hers, his lips merely inches away—

He stopped. No, this… this was one of those Jedi Mind Tricks, wasn't it? Although, Canderous supposed if it was a full-blown mind trick, he'd be repeating everything she was saying. Maybe this was a Jedi Flirt Trick? Revan really wasn't coming on to him; she just wanted him to _think_ she was. She didn't want to face what had happened to Carth, and didn't want to admit there was nothing she could have done to prevent it. And clearly she was willing to try anything that would get her out of going to Citadel Station, including seducing him.

"Revan, don't do this," he hoarsely whispered.

"Don't do what?" she casually asked.

"What you're trying to do right now. It's not gonna work."

"I can feel—"

"Then you know what I'm thinking," he firmly said. She was about to open her mouth, but he cut her off. "I won't let you dishonor yourself or Carth. This is wrong."

"I—"

"We're going to Citadel Station," he continued, his voice still a whisper. "If this wasn't Carth's life we were talking about, then I could care less if you went back. He's no better than a Coruscant granit slug for what he said to you. But the situation is different now. Don't make it worse by doing something you'll regret later."

"But I won't."

Canderous reached down and gently touched the blue diamond hanging around her neck. "Yes," he said. "You will."

Revan hung her head and said nothing.

"I'm your man until the end, Revan," he continued. "Do not confuse my loyalty for a romantic pursuit."

Revan was quiet for a few seconds, then started to apologize. "Canderous, I… I'm—"

"We will never speak of this again," he said.

She looked back up at him. He could see the shame in her eyes, yet at the same time knew that she understood he was willing to forget the last few minutes had happened and give her an easy out. But would she take it?

Slowly, Revan nodded her head. "We…" She stopped. "How long be-before we get to Telos?"

"I don't know," he answered. "I haven't checked in a while."

"I… I'll go check, then… then get something to eat. I'm… hungry."

Canderous nodded. He took several steps backwards to give her some space, then headed for the door.

"Canderous?"

He turned around.

Revan closed her eyes. "No one… No one knows what really happened on Korriban," she whispered. She opened her eyes and looked at him. "No one but you."

He stood up a little straighter. "I'm honored."

"I… I don't want anyone—"

"I won't talk," he said. Revan looked at him with a hint of uncertainty on her face. He was hurt she doubted his loyalty. "You have my word," he assured.

She nodded in acknowledgment. "Thank you for listening." Her voice was still barely above a whisper.

Canderous nodded in response, then exited Revan's bunk. She had entrusted him with the truth about what happened on Korriban… and then she tried to seduce him. As the door to her bunk closed, Canderous took a few steps forward, made sure the hall was empty, then slumped against the wall. He rubbed his face, then took a deep breath.

Canderous gave Revan an easy out; he said they'd never speak of the incident again, never mention about how they almost… how he wanted…

They'd never talk about what happened again, sure. But how the hell was Canderous never going to _think_ about it again?


	26. Horribly, Stupidly Noble

**Chapter Twenty-Six: ****Horribly, Stupidly Noble**

Now:

Nal sat in _Gambit's_ cockpit, lost in his thoughts. Citadel Station was still hours away, and there was nothing to do but sit, think, and smell whatever it was that had died on Zaalbar. He had tried having conversations with the Wookiee, but all Nal managed to get out of him were a few grunts and snorts. It was plainly obvious to Nal that despite the truth, he was being viewed as the man who took their beloved Liana away. Either that or Zaalbar really was answering his questions and Nal simply didn't understand. Or the Wookiee was suffering from indigestion.

It didn't really matter, though. Nal wasn't interested in talking, even if it was to someone who would reply in Basic. Talking would only disturb his thinking, and he was doing a lot of thinking… a lot of thinking about Darth Revan.

It was Revan who was responsible for rogue Jedi entering the Mandalorian Wars. It was Revan who corrupted Jedi and Republic officers alike. It was Revan who reigned in terror. And then it was Darth Malak who took over in his Master's footsteps. Two of the most notorious and feared people in the galaxy during his lifetime—and hopefully the only two in his lifetime—and one of them was on board peacefully sleeping.

How could she do this to him? How could Liana bold-face lie to him? He remembered when she first came on board how they had had a conversation about Revan. Liana had a theory that Revan was still alive, and just wanted to be a normal person. Something about gaining redemption for past evils and had changed for the good. He figured she was just attempting to strike a dialogue on quite possibly the strangest topic to pick. If asking him about his feelings towards the Sith hadn't been some sort of giveaway…

How many people would like to kill her for what she had done? How many people would consider it revenge? Had she truly made a change for the better? There were times on Nar Shaddaa where he had questioned things she had done, starting with convincing Wayt to pay them 500 credits per kolto crate. And then there was the business of taking out Wayt's entire security staff with a pipe. Had she really made a change for the good, or was she still dangerous? And if she was good, what the hell was she doing with him instead of being with the Jedi? If everything Canderous had told him about Taris, the Jedi re-training her on Dantooine, finding Star Maps, destroying the Star Forge, slaying Malak… If all of that was true, then why was she attempting to lead the life of a smuggler? It couldn't be for thrills.

Then there was the matter of her loving someone? Who in their right mind would love a Sith? Well, Nal supposed that person wouldn't be in his right mind. In fact, he would be in his _wrong_ mind. Insane. Nuts. Three nerfs short of a herd. Canderous said the man she loved was a Republic Commodore. Weren't the Sith and Republic at war? It would be like a Coruscant Senator falling in love with a Mandalorian.

Canderous was a Mandalorian, and there was no doubt he was loyal to her. Just how the hell did that work? Canderous said he didn't know Revan was Revan until Revan said she was Revan. Or something like that. But still, wouldn't Canderous be the first person in line to kill her? She had crushed the Mandalorian clans. She'd killed their leader. Hell, Revan was the one who defied the Jedi Council in the first place and joined the war. So why was a Mandalorian so protective of and loyal to her? It just didn't make any sense.

Darth Revan was evil, and just because she had friends didn't change things. She didn't deserve to have such loyal friends. She didn't deserve to have someone love her.

She didn't deserve to live.

_So,_ Nal thought. _You going to do something about that?_

His hand brushed past his blaster holster.

Liana was constantly harping on him to grow a backbone. Nal wasn't always, as she said, spineless. He was Davik Kang's top man for a reason. Nal had killed people for Bochaba the Hutt before, even some he had considered friends. But that wasn't the person he had been. He hadn't always been a smuggler or mercenary. The job was forced upon him when the Mandalorians conquered his homeworld of Onderon at the beginning of the Mandalorian War. He'd managed to hitch a ride off the planet, and wound up on Sleheyron. He took a job working for Bochaba so he could eat and have a couple credits to his name. It's where his struggle to endure began. He wasn't a murderer; he was a pirate trying to survive in a galaxy filled with Mandalorians and Sith.

And right now, on board his ship was the Dark Lady of the Sith.

So what was he going to do? Revert back to his past ways and kill her? Canderous had told him she was different now. But Sith couldn't be redeemed. And did he really trust a Mandalorian at his word? What if this was all show? What if Revan was waiting to catch everyone by surprise and attack? What if she tried to conquer the galaxy again? She'd done it before, and Nal didn't doubt she could do it again. If Revan could fool him into thinking she was some innocent smuggler from Corellia, she could fool everyone else into thinking she'd changed. And when that day came, Nal would hate himself for not doing anything about it when he had the chance.

_She's the definition of evil, and she doesn't deserve to live._

Nal stood up, told his Wookiee monitor he needed to use the refresher, then exited the cockpit. He made his way down the hall, through the common room where Canderous was sleeping—only tripping slightly on his footlocker—then headed towards Liana's bunk. Upon reaching her room, he paused, looked both ways for the assassination droid, then opened the door.

Nal stood at the doorway, blaster in hand. Liana—_Revan_ was asleep and curled on her side hugging a pillow. She looked peaceful and completely unaware of what he was going to do. Well, she wouldn't be aware, wouldn't she? She was sleeping. Unless she could read minds… while she was sleeping?

He stood there for a while, simply looking at her. As the light from the hall hit her bunk like a spotlight, Nal realized for the first time just how beautiful Liana was. He'd never considered her ugly, and had to admit to the occasional thoughts of the two of them tangled together with the bed sheets. But he'd never truly taken the time to look at her. She was just so… beautiful. He couldn't find any other words to describe the way she looked. How could someone that stunning be a former cold-hearted killer?

He gripped his blaster tighter. Everyone he knew thought Revan was a man, believing that no woman could do all the heartless damage Darth Revan did. But now, to know the truth… Even her actions on Nar Shaddaa and that Republic Cargo Vessel were enough to change his mind about her abilities. Entire planets fell because of Revan. People died. Lots of people. Others turned to the Dark Side of the Force, spreading her evilness to places she couldn't go. Because of her, Malak came to power, and caused even more pain and suffering, especially to planets such as Telos and Taris. Nal could do the whole galaxy a favor and kill Revan. It wouldn't bring back the dead, but it would make the living feel safer. There would be no reward… and Revan's companions would certainly kill him. But it would ensure the former Dark Lady of the Sith wouldn't fall again.

She was also his partner. And the best damn one he'd ever had—even though he tried to betray her for a fictional bounty. But he found himself trusting her. Nal liked having her around, and it hurt to some extent to know there was already a man in her life. There was someone she loved, or once loved…

She was Revan. She didn't deserve to love someone, or have someone love her in return. She was a Sith Lord, the epitome of evil, and no one that heartless, that evil, deserved to have any happiness, any compassion for another living being. Why? Because it was just… wrong for someone to love someone so evil.

He briefly thought back to a conversation they had on Tatooine. She was the daughter of Lieno Suul, wasn't she? He wondered what that kind, jovial droid engineer on Corellia would think about the career path his little had girl chosen. Or maybe it was just another elaborate lie.

It was so much easier to want to kill Revan when he wasn't looking right at her. He began to think of the times she hadn't scared him. True, he'd only known her for a short while. But there were some good moments. And she had such a pleasant smile. She made him feel like he was a person again, not some two-bit smuggler people could walk all over. Maybe that's why it hurt so much to know the truth.

"If you're going to kill her, then do it already."

Nal jumped and turned to see Canderous standing in the hall. "How… How…"

"How long have I been standing here?" the Mandalorian asked, taking a few steps closer. "Long enough. So do it already. Kill her. Put the galaxy out of its misery. End the rumors that Revan might still be alive. Make her pay for all the lives she took. Do it, Nal. Kill the greatest warrior the galaxy has ever known. You'll be a hero."

"You better do what he says," came a faint, female voice. Nal looked inside the room to see Liana's eyes open. She looked right at him. "Canderous gets angry when people don't listen to him."

Nal said nothing. He looked at her, then at Canderous, then re-holstered his weapon, and walked away, partially in embarrassment, partially in fear.

What was he thinking? What would killing her accomplish? Maybe she really did have a new life now… or another new life. Maybe she really did change for the better. The only thing in the entire situation that directly affected him was Liana using him to escape the man she loved. Nal didn't even know any details surrounding her escape, other than it took place on Korriban. But was that worth killing her over? She'd asked him when they first met about Revan wanting a normal life. Was that her seeing if he'd accept the truth?

He sat down in a chair in the common room, cupped the back of his neck and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. What the hell was wrong with him?

"You care to explain to me what that was back there?" Nal heard Canderous asked. The Mandalorian sounded like he was a few feet behind him, but the smuggler didn't look up.

"I don't know," he whispered.

"You think killing her now is going to change anything?"

Nal shook his head.

"So—"

"I don't know!" Nal snapped. He looked up. Canderous crossed his arms across his chest, waiting for Nal to continue. "She's Darth Revan," he said in a softer voice. "She's responsible for ruining the lives of innocent people."

"You're a smuggler," Canderous said. "You do the same thing. Didn't you tell me you stole a whole ship full of kolto?"

_He's right. What I used to do for Bochaba… it's the same damn thing._ Nal's voice grew quiet. "I'm not a Sith Lord. I'm just trying to survive." He shook his head. "All this time my smuggling partner was… She didn't even tell me. I'm still…" He paused. "And you knew all along?"

"You make it sound like we're pals and I've deceived you," Canderous said.

Nal said nothing. He cupped the back of his neck again, and leaned forward.

"Besides, do you really think she'd tell you who she was?" Canderous continued. His timbre changed, sounding perky. "'Hey! I'm Revan, Darth Lord of the Sith! I hear you need a smuggling partner? Let me list the ways I'm experienced to help you out!'"

Nal shot him a dirty look. "Don't ever do that to your voice again."

"The point is, Simer, when you're trying to run away from something, you don't blab your intentions to the universe."

"Then how did you find her?"

"She didn't cover her footprints." Canderous sat down across from Nal. "People on Korriban identified her when Zaalbar and HK asked around. They also identified you. By name. From there, they got the name of your ship and where you were headed. After a chance meeting with a drunk man, we got your comm frequency. One gullible comm call later, everything fell in the place. Thanks for that, by the way."

"Well, I'm glad I'm useful and dependable for something," Nal snorted.

"We'll be on Citadel Station in a few hours," Canderous said, standing up. "And I'll need Revan in one piece, if you catch my drift." Nal looked up at him and nodded. "Good," the Mandalorian said, "because I'm only going to stay this once." He crouched down to Nal's level and looked him dead in the eyes. "If you try to kill her again, I'll break your neck."

Nal swallowed hard.

Canderous smiled. "Good." He patted Nal on the head, then stood up and headed for the cockpit.


	27. Arrival

**Chapter Twenty-Seven: Arrival**

Now:

Revan sat behind Nal in _Gambit's_ cockpit, watching as Citadel Station came into view. Her palms felt sweaty, and she suddenly felt warm. It was nerves, no doubt. She'd been scared ever since Canderous told her Dustil Onasi was alive. That piece of knowledge was enough for her stomach to do flips. Add T3's recording to the mess, and Revan was a wreck. She hadn't been thinking straight, her panicked instincts telling her to flee from the situation by any means necessary. At the time, hiding on Dxun sounded better than reverting to piracy. Maybe that's why on a spur of a moment she had attempted to seduce Canderous, her only option at the time to distract him from her Korriban mistake.

During the entirety of her self-imposed exile, Revan had convinced herself that running away was her best option, to leave everyone behind and start a new life with people who didn't know her past, people she wouldn't have to explain her actions to. After Nal discovered the truth about her and learning what Dustil had done to Carth, running away to Dxun seemed like just another way to escape. But she was a Jedi Knight, and Jedi didn't flee from their troubles. She'd been a Sith Lord in a former life, a title she hadn't received by being a coward. Hell, the whole reason she'd been a Sith Lord in the first place was by taking matters into her own hands and creating a solution. She could have just as easily hidden behind the Jedi Council, but no. She'd been bold; she had done the unthinkable and given hope to the Republic just as it appeared the Mandalorians were going to win.

So why the hell was she running away from a miscommunication—well, a miscommunication and two failed murders. Revan should be fighting to keep Carth, fighting to help Dustil give up the dark side instead of thinking that running around with a complete stranger stealing kolto for the rest of her life was a better choice. Revan didn't give up on Bastila when the young Jedi had fallen to the dark side. She'd even tried to turn Malak back to the light side before he died. This current situation, emotions aside, was a lot simpler than destroying the Star Forge.

But that was the problem, wasn't it? 'Emotions aside'. Despite her past friendship with Malak, Revan had more emotions invested in Carth than anyone she knew, any friendship she'd ever had. She couldn't explain her feelings; they simply existed. Maybe that's why she was so scared; she'd rather leave it all behind than watch it crumble before her eyes.

Revan turned to her right and looked at the Mandalorian seated behind the Wookiee co-pilot. He, Zaalbar, and HK had gone to a lot of trouble to find her only for her to react the way she had. Canderous idolized her as the perfect warrior, someone he hoped would be an influence to his people. Some warrior she was. She didn't regret confiding in Canderous, but she did regret her attempt at using him. He said they'd never speak about it again, but Revan couldn't stop thinking about that moment, about her failed manipulation. Revan always knew that Canderous was fond of her, but he masked it well, instead focusing his thoughts on his opinions of Carth. She never knew exactly how much Canderous cared about her until that moment, and she knew what his intentions had been. Maybe that's why he said they'd never discuss what happened; he had just as much explaining to do as she did.

Revan raked her fingers through her hair and sighed. It was time to stop running and start making things right. It was going to be difficult, frustrating, and, well, painful, but it needed to be done. And it really was pathetic she'd let it all come to this.

Revan watched as Canderous stared out the front window at Citadel Station, a look of puzzlement on his face. "Damn thing covers up almost half planet. How the hell does something that massive stay in orbit?"

"Very well, apparently," Nal answered. Zaalbar woofed in agreement.

"I didn't think that many Telosians survived."

"They didn't," Revan said. "But there weren't enough of them to keep the station operational on their own. Most of the people there are from other worlds."

"Some to help," Nal theorized. "But more to make a profit off the survivors."

"Something like that," she answered.

Ever since Nal tried to kill her, Revan had noticed the smuggler had been more reserved than usual. He hadn't said two words to her about the incident, and she had sensed regret, even fear, from him. She knew Canderous had had words with him; she knew the two men had talked, but she didn't know the specifics of the conversation. Canderous most likely threatened the smuggler, which would explain Nal's current disposition. Nal had expressed his fear of her several times before, and finding out about her true past clearly was enough for the smuggler to attempt to kill her. Revan could always invade his privacy to see what he was thinking by reading his mind again, just like she had back on Korriban. But somehow she knew she wouldn't like the answer.

The communication panel suddenly began beeping. Nal turned around to answer the just as Canderous asked, "Who's contacting—"

"Citadel Station," Nal answered. He pressed the receive button on the panel as Canderous, Revan, and Zaalbar stood up to look at the video display. The image of a young man in a blue, white, and yellow uniform showed on the monitor.

"_Approaching ship: This is Officer Plet from __Telos Security Force,"_ the man on the communication display screen said._ "Citadel Station is under lockdown. No incoming ships are allowed to dock on or leave the station."_

"Officer Plet, this is the captain of said approaching ship," he replied. "We have business here—"

"_I'm sorry, Captain," _the officer replied. _"I cannot authorize any ships to dock."_

Revan told Nal to move out of the way. "Officer Plet, my name is Liana Suul," she said as Nal stepped out of her way. She sat down in the pilot's chair. "I'm a Jedi Knight, and I'm here under orders from the Jedi Council. If—"

"_I apologize, Master Suul, but I am not authorized—"_

"If you check the station records, you'll see that I am a guest of Commodore Carth Onasi," she continued. "The Commodore, two droids, a Twi'lek, and a Wookiee were all guests of the commodore, residing in the Republic VIP Guest Module oh-eight-five. We were here under orders from the Jedi Council to rendezvous with Commodore Onasi's son."

"_You and half the galaxy, Master Suul."_

Revan blinked. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Canderous raise an eyebrow at the disrespectful tone Officer Plet gave her. "Excuse me?" she asked.

"_The Exchange has posted a bounty on Mr. Onasi's head," _he explained. _"Bounty hunters from all over have been attempting to gain access to the station to cash in." _With an air of arrogance, he added: _"It's all over the holonet." _

Revan sat there, speechless. Leave it to the Exchange to try and make a profit off a traumatic experience. Although it didn't surprise her, it did make her angry. She thought of a bounty hunter taking down the teenager and selling him to the Exchange for credits. As much pain and frustration Dustil had caused, he didn't deserve that.

"How much is the bounty worth?" Nal asked.

Revan turned and glared. "Don't even think about it." Before Nal could reply, she turned back to the communications monitor. She took a deep breath, then said, "Officer Plet. If you check the station guest logs, you'll see—"

"_Look, I can't help you. Until the lockdown is lifted, you cannot step foot on Citadel Station. I've told that to every other ship that's attempted to dock here, plus it's all over—"_

Canderous reached over and hit the mute button. "Kriffin' Republic! To be this incompetent and this rude—"

Revan held up a hand telling the Mandalorian to stop. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw HK approach, but paid the droid no attention. She turned the mute feature off on the communications panel. "Officer Plet, let me speak to your supervisor, Lieutenant Dol Grenn."

"_He's not available at the—"_

"He'll _vouch_ for my identity," Revan enunciated, "since you can't be bothered to check yourself."

"_Master Suul, forgive me for pointing out you're not exactly dressed as a Jedi."_

"Officer Plet, forgive me for pointing out you're addressing a member of the Jedi Order," Revan snapped.

Nal looked at Canderous. He whispered, "Aren't the first lines to the Jedi Code something about 'no emotion' and 'peace'?"

Canderous snorted. "Who're we talkin' about?"

Nal paused, then nodded. "You got a point."

"So you will go find Lieutenant Grenn," Revan continued, "and you will put him on this channel so that I may speak with him. And if you continue insist you cannot contact Lieutenant Grenn, then you will contact Mission Vao, guest of Commodore Onasi, or the droid T3-M4, in Medical Module—"

"Oh-eight-seven," Canderous whispered.

"Oh-eight-seven and have _her_ vouch for my identity," she continued, her tone reflecting her increasing frustration and annoyance. "And if that _still_ isn't enough, you will contact the Jedi Council on Coruscant who will not only confirm my identity, but my orders to find Dustil Onasi and bring him back to Coruscant, preferably not in a bag and covered in blaster burns! Is that under_stood_?"

"_One moment, Master Suul." _The image of the officer was replaced with a stock card of the TSF logo.

Nal frowned. "Did he just hang up on you?"

"We're on hold," she muttered, leaning back in the chair and crossing her arms over her chest.

"Observation," HK chimed in. "I approve of your hostility towards the disrespectful meatsack, Master. Query: Shall I blast him if we should ever meet?"

"Might not be a bad idea," Canderous said as crossed his arms across his chest and leaned against the wall. He nodded towards Revan. "You were supposed to bring Dustil back to Coruscant to see the Council?"

"Not really," she answered. "But if they decide to check on the orders, it'll take weeks to get word to the Jedi Council using conventional channels, if they get it at all." Canderous gave her an inquisitive look. "The message goes through at least ten people before it's decided whether the Council will be bothered answering," she explained. "Only way the message goes straight to the Council is if you know the proper codes, which all Jedi do." She sighed. "So even if they try to check my orders, we'll have blasted our way onto the station long before then."

Zaalbar asked if Revan thought they'd let them land on the station regardless.

"If they don't," she replied, "we'll land anyway. That'll ensure we see Grenn. And quite possibly the inside of a holding cell."

"Those things are quite cozy, I hear," Nal said. "So who's this Grenn guy?"

"Man in charge of the TSF," Revan said. "He's the one Carth went to when we first came here looking for Dustil. I met him a couple times, each time with Carth around. Grenn should remember me."

"Recollection," HK said. "Lieutenant Grenn was quite inept, as well. The Republic meatbag corrected the lieutenant thirty-seven times that I am aware of that your title was 'Jedi,' not 'Miss'. The lieutenant meatsack further could not work the database search program—"

"I know, HK," she sighed. "I wasn't discussing his job performance. I asked to speak with him because he'll remember me, wrong title or not."

Canderous rolled his eyes. "Can't find Dustil, can't remember who you are—"

"Cut them some slack," she said. "They're doing the best they can."

"You call that attitude that punk kid gave you the best they can?" he snapped.

"What would you rather them do?" she snapped back.

Nal coughed. "Uh, let us on the station?"

"Besides that," she sighed.

Canderous looked at her. "Treat you with respect."

Revan said nothing.

The communications panel beeped again. Revan turned towards the screen just as the TSF logo disappeared. _"This is Lieutenant J.G. Dol Grenn of the Telos Security—"_

"Lieutenant Grenn," she interrupted, "this is Liana Suul."

Grenn paused. _"Miss Suul? I thought you were with the Commodore?"_

"Correction: Master's—" HK's voice was muffled as Canderous placed a hand over the droid's voice speaker.

Revan sighed in relief. "It's a long story, Lieutenant."

"_Have you heard about what happened to—"_

"If it's about Carth, then that's why I'm here attempting to gain access to the station."

Grenn nodded. _"I'll grant your vessel boarding clearance."_

"Thank you, Lieutenant," she said. The TSF card came up on the monitor for the second time. She turned in her chair, looked at Canderous and smiled smugly. "See? It worked."

"He called you 'Miss'," Canderous pointed out.

"But he remembered me and is letting us dock on the station, so right now that's all I care about."

"And if he changes his mind?"

Revan looked at HK. "What would you recommend?"

"Answer: Dock with Citadel Station regardless. Once the Telos Security Force officers approach the vessel, release me and the Mandalorian first. We shall engage the enemy with a spread of blaster fire, using the occasional grenade and plasma rocket. The furball will be quite effective when it comes to ripping meatbag limbs out of sockets. If you have your lightsabers with you, they too will prove useful in—"

"_Miss Suul, your vessel has been cleared to land," _came the sound of Lieutenant Grenn's voice. Revan turned around in her chair and saw him on the view screen. _"Please land at dock ten. I will greet you upon arrival."_

"Thank you, lieutenant." The communications panel went black. Revan stood up and allowed Nal to take the pilot's chair.

"Disappointment: I was looking forward to blasting our way onto Citadel Station," HK said.

Revan snorted. "The day is still young."


	28. Returning To Citadel

**Chapter Twenty-Eight: Returning To Citadel**

Now:

Mission was busy playing her electronic pazaak game when a medical droid approached. "Miss Vao," the droid said. "There are guests here to see you and T3-M4."

T3, parked next to Mission, let out a beep resembling a groan. "I don't want to talk to the TSF," Mission said to the medical droid, still focused on her game. She was dressed in her typical khakis and black shirt, and seated at the far end of Carth's infirmary room, trying her best not to think about the current situation. Doctors had said she was well enough to leave the facility, but Mission was insistent on not leaving until Carth could or Zaalbar and the others arrived with Revan. "Tell 'em to go away. T3 doesn't wanna talk with 'em, either."

"Your guests are not Telos Security Force officers," the droid answered. "They are—"

"Whoever they are, they can go away," she said. Mission and T3 constantly had people wanting to meet with them for holonews interviews or additional reports for TSF's records. That was another reason she and T3 chose to hide in the safety of the medical facility. "I'm tired of talking to TSF and the press and everyone else who tries to stop by! I don't have anything else to say to them! They just need to leave us alone and spend their time findin' Dustil instead!"

"Very well," the droid said. "I shall tell Jedi Suul and her party that you are not available at this time."

Mission's eyes lit up. She looked at the droid. "Did you say 'Jedi Suul'?"

"Affirmative. Jedi Liana Suul and her party are waiting—"

Mission scrambled off the floor. "Never mind! I'm here! C'mon, T3!"

* * *

Revan, Canderous, Zaalbar, HK, and Nal were standing a secluded waiting area in the Medical Facility when Mission came flying down the hall. "REVAN!" she cried. She ran towards her friend, hugging her with her one good arm.

Revan returned the embrace. "Are you okay?" she asked. The teenager said nothing. Revan pulled slightly away, looked down at Mission's bandaged arm and frowned. "What happened?"

"I… I don't remember, really," the Twi'lek said. T3 wheeled up from behind and sadly beeped. "I remember Carth screaming," she continued. "I tried to stop Dustil, but I got knocked out. The doctor said I had a bump on my head, and I broke my arm. I was really dizzy at first, but I'm okay now."

From behind Revan, Zaalbar softly howled that if he had been with Mission, she wouldn't have gotten hurt. The teenage Twi'lek went over to the Wookiee. "Don't apologize, Big Z," she sadly said, her headtails drooping. She hugged her best friend. "It's not your fault. Besides, if I wasn't here, no one would've kept you updated on things here, and T3 wouldn't've sent the message. I'm just glad you're here now."

"It still shouldn't've happened, Mission," Revan said. "If I had just—" Canderous nudged her. "I know," she softly said.

"Query," HK said. "Shall I shoot the whiny Republic meatbag's offspring?"

"If you can find him first," Mission said. "Citadel Station's on a lockdown. No one can leave and or come."

"We know," Canderous said. "Had a hard time trying to dock. It's a good thing Revan here knows—"

"Who're you?" Mission asked. Revan turned and saw she was looking at Nal, her head tilted slightly to the side.

"Nal Simer," he smiled. "Thoroughly-confused smuggler."

"You the guy who took Revan away?"

Nal looked at Canderous. "Why does everyone ask me that question?"

"It was my decision," Revan interjected. "I left on my own." She saw the teenager glare at Nal. "You can trust him, Mission. If you can't, that's what HK is for."

HK cocked his rifle. "Ready!"

Nal's eyes grew wide. "Now wait just a minute!"

As HK proceeded to explain to Nal how he was programmed to obey his master, Canderous nudged Revan again. "You want to go see Carth now?" She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. He turned to Mission. "Kid? Where's Carth?"

"Down the hall," she answered, looking at Revan. "T3 and I can walk you there if you want. He's still unconscious."

Revan hesitated again. "Please," she whispered.

"I'll go with you," Canderous said. He turned to Zaalbar and HK. "Keep an eye on our guest."

Nal's eyes grew wide. "You're gonna leave me with these two?" he squeaked.

"That's the plan," Canderous replied.

Nal opened his mouth, assumingly to protest, then closed it.

Mission and T3 led Revan and Canderous towards Carth's room. She again warned them of Carth's condition. "He doesn't look too good, either," she added, her voice softer.

Canderous snorted. "Republic never looked too good." When Revan shot him a glare, the Mandalorian said nothing more.

The sterile surroundings of the medical center combined with the quiet ambience had Revan on edge. The only employees they passed where medical droids. Didn't anyone else work here?

When they reached Carth's room, Revan noticed an armed TSF officer standing outside the door. Mission stopped. "They're guests of Carth; it's okay," she said to the officer. The man gave her an approving nod.

The teenager turned back to Revan. "I'm gonna go back to Big Z now." With that, she turned and left.

Canderous was confused. "What the hell was—"

"She's trying to give me some time alone," Revan said. She looked at the closed door. The knot in her stomach that had been there since Canderous first told her Dustil was alive began to tighten again.

"Are you ready?" Canderous asked.

"No," she said. The petite Jedi looked at the Mandalorian. "But do I have a choice?"

"I didn't ambush you, blow your cover, stun you, and then drag you here for nothing."

Revan cracked a small smile. She took a deep breath, reached forward to open the door, then pulled her hand away. She muttered a curse at herself. "Facing Malak was easier than this," she whispered.

Canderous muttered under his breath. He reached over and opened the door, then pushed her inside the small room. Revan, caught off-guard, almost tripped over her feet and briefly struggled to maintain her balance.

Then she saw Carth.

He was lying on a med cot, a blanket pulled up to the middle of his chest. His arms were bare sans bandages and gauze wraps. She could only see the right side of his face, and the small bandages on his cheeks and forehead, but nothing covering the bruises. Various pieces of medical equipment were off to the side of his bed, beeping slow but rhythmically. Slowly she stepped forward, all the while staring at his face. Even though he was unconscious, he looked… sad. She couldn't think of another adjective to use.

"Mission wasn't kidding," Canderous said, his voice somber.

Revan said nothing.

"You gonna be okay?" he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

She hesitated, not sure of the right answer. "I don't know," she whispered.

Canderous gave her shoulder a pat, then removed his hand. "Take your time."

Revan took a deep breath. "Take my time," she said to herself. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a chair next to his bed, and contemplated having a seat. But she couldn't stop looking at Carth's face. What other wounds were hidden underneath the med shirt he wore and the blanket covering the rest of his body? What else had Dustil done to his father? Revan bit her lip, then turned to look at Canderous. But the Mandalorian was gone. She looked around, then realized he had snuck out to give her some time alone, as well. Revan didn't know whether to thank him or hit him.

Slowly Revan walked towards the chair. She sat down, then gently reached over to hold Carth's hand. His rough, callused palm felt cold and lifeless. Revan bit her lip again, then with her free hand softly stroked the side of his head, careful to avoid bandages and bruises. For someone who was scared of returning, scared of facing the consequences of running away, all she could think of now was how she wasn't there to protect him when he needed her the most. "What has he done to you, Carth?" she whispered.

Carth didn't respond. Only the beeps of the medical equipment filled the silence.

_I should have been here,_ Revan thought. _I could have stopped this. _"I should have stayed, Flyboy." She cupped the side of his face and gently brushed his temple with her thumb.

From behind her, Revan heard someone walk into the room. She turned around and saw a tall, slender, red-haired man dressed in a Republic physician's uniform. "Hello," he said. "Your companions in the lobby said you were in here. You must be the commodore's fiancé?"

She contemplated an explanation, but instead said, "Liana."

"Rayn," he said. "I'm one of the aids here, and have been taking care of the commodore."

"How is he?" she asked. "I… I was told he was dying."

"If he never regains consciousness, he could die." Rayn stated. "Monitors indicate there is brain activity, but we won't know how well he can function until he regains consciousness."

"But what about kolto?" Revan asked. "Can't you stick him in a tank?"

"We can't. The last shipment of kolto headed here was stolen."

Revan's stomach sank. "Kolto stolen?" she asked.

"It's been all over the holonews," he explained. "The shipment headed here was stolen, and the pilot's can't identify who did it."

Revan turned back around and looked at Carth. "Oh no," she whispered. Was it the same shipment she and Nal had stolen? She had wiped the ship's memory banks clean. She even made sure the two pilots wouldn't remember her or Nal…

"I need about five minutes to check the commodore's vital signs," she heard him say. "The medical droid will let you know when you can come back."

Revan nodded. She stood up, and gave Carth's hand a gentle squeeze, then exited the room. As the door closed behind her, she leaned against the side wall, folding her arms across her stomach, not caring that the TSF guard was still standing watch. She closed her eyes.

If there hadn't been a good reason before that running away was the worst thing she could have done, there was a good reason now. How was Revan going to live with herself if Carth died?

She thought of Nal in the waiting area, completely unaware of what their actions—what the job he lined up—had done. Revan looked towards the waiting area. Nal needed to know the consequences of that job. It was his fault, too, after all. She started heading towards the waiting area, her steps growing faster.

Force help anyone who got in her way if Carth died.


	29. Voice of Reason

**Chapter Twenty-Nine: Voice of Reason**

Now:

While Zaalbar and Mission sat together in the secluded waiting area talking about everything she'd done with T3, Nal sat alone in the corner, glaring at Canderous and HK. He didn't need the Mandalorian and killer droid to babysit him; it wasn't like he was going to run to the local cantina and scream out who Liana Suul really was. And the way HK-47 kept watching him… it was eating at Nal's nerves. Part of him just wanted to yell 'Shoot me, already!' and have it done with.

Revan entered the room; everyone looked up but Nal as the smuggler was still brooding over his mechanical guard. Mission immediately asked if Revan was all right, but she didn't reply.

"I'm sorry," Mission said, as if she had anything to apologize for. "If it wasn't for the kolto shortage, Carth probably would have been okay,"

Nal snorted. "Maybe next time the Republic won't deal under the table with the Selkath government. Load a good that did them, gettin' their illegal harvester blown up, screwin' the galaxy over in the process."

"It was illegal for a reason," Canderous said.

"Yeah, and now it's gonna get the commodore killed."

Suddenly Nal flew out of his chair. He let out a painful cry as his back hit the metal wall hard.

"HEY!" Canderous shouted as Mission gasped. Nal couldn't move. He was stuck to the wall, several feet from the floor.

Revan glared daggers at Nal.

"Approval," HK piped up. "Master, this method of—"

"That kolto we gave to Wayt!" Revan yelled, ignoring the droid. "That kolto was supposed to come _HERE!_"

"What?" Nal asked.

From behind her, Mission squeaked. "You guys are the ones that stole the kolto?"

"It was supposed to come _here!_" Revan repeated, her voice shrill. Her face was a deep shade of red.

Nal winced. "I'm sorry?"

"If Carth _DIES_, it's because of _US!_"

Canderous quickly stepped in. "Hey, hey, HEY!" he said, pulling Revan away from Nal. "Let him go! NOW!"

Nal fell to the floor, hard. He let out a cry and grabbed his backside, doubling over in pain. Mission ran over to help while HK complained all the excitement was over.

Canderous placed his hands on Revan's slender shoulders. "Look at me," he said. "Look at me!"

Revan cut him off. "If we hadn't stolen the kolto—"

"I don't give a damn about that!" Canderous said. "You are not responsible—"

"Yes I am!" she shouted. "Carth could _die_ without it! If we hadn't—"

"You think Carth is the only one affected by this?" Canderous snapped. "You stole medicine. You think Carth's the only one who could die here?" Before Revan could snap a come-back, he continued. "You made a mistake, yes. But you had no idea the shipment you stole was coming here, did you?" Revan shook her head. "Even if you hadn't run off, the kolto still would have been stolen by Simer. You have no control over this. You're so used to being in charge, and making sure you're there to make sure everything goes right. But sometimes things just… happen."

"I don't want Carth to die because I—"

"He won't die!" Canderous snapped. "Republic's tough. Give him some credit." Revan said nothing. "Did you try using the Force? You've healed people before."

"Minor injuries," she said. "I'm not a Jedi Healer; I haven't had the right training."

"But you could try."

Revan said nothing.

Nal, still sitting on the floor, coughed. "Um, I know I probably shouldn't be speaking now, but, uh, I find it hard to believe a station of this size has no kolto in reserve somewhere." Canderous turned his head and looked at him. "Look, I'm just saying that a small outpost I can understand. But this place is huge. And it's funded by the Republic. They've always got more than they really need. Right?"

"But the kolto tank was busted," Mission said. "Dustil threw him into it. That's how he got all cut up."

"You mean to tell me there're no more kolto tanks on Citadel?" Nal asked. "That shipment wasn't just headed here. It was headed for other places, too, and comparing the amount we swiped based on the size of this station? There's got to be more around somewhere.."

"Kolto packs are small," Revan snapped. "There was enough in those crates to supply the entire station! There's no more left!"

Canderous looked at Revan. "Who told you there's no more kolto?"

Revan scowled. "What part of 'kolto shortage' do you not understand?"

"And now the hospital is out of medicine completely?"

She hesitated. "I don't know."

Canderous sighed. "All right, here's what you're going to do. First of all, apologize to Nal for scaring him half to death. Then I want you go back to Carth, and use those powers the Force sought to give you. Understand?"

Mission stood up and walked over to her friend. "I'll go with you."

Revan looked at Canderous. "You know," she softly said, "it's pretty bad when you're the voice of reason."

Canderous shrugged. "I have my moments."

* * *

"Let me see your arm," Revan said to Mission. The teenager sat down on the chair next to Carth's bed, then raised her broken arm the best she could. Revan held it gently between her hands. "So what did you and T3 do while everyone was out looking for me?" she asked.

Mission shrugged. "T3 and I didn't do much, really," she answered. "We did some exploring, but T3 can't climb like Big Z, and he wouldn't go through the secure areas. He kept warning me I'd get in a trouble. If he'd been with us when we explored the Taris Sewers, he wouldn't be thinkin' that. He's a good, loyal little guy, but he isn't exactly adventurous."

Revan defended. "He did break into the Taris Sith Base, and fought alongside me and Carth."

"Yeah, but he had to because you needed the launch codes," she pointed out. "Otherwise his little metal butt woulda been on the sidelines tellin' you how you'd get in trouble."

Revan looked at her friend and gave her a lopsided grin. "I sense some hostility in you, Miss Vao."

Mission wrinkled her nose. "Maybe just a little."

Revan nodded, then turned slightly to the side and looked at Carth. "Revan?" Mission asked. "Why did you run away? Carth said that you tried to kill Dustil, but you would never do something like that."

Her face fell. "I wouldn't be so sure, Mission."

"You mean… it's true?"

Revan looked over at the teenager. Mission looked as if her entire world had come crashing down. "Oh, Mish, no! No, it's not—That's not what I meant." When the teenager looked uncertain, Revan tried to explain. She didn't want to go into full detail like she had with Canderous, but Mission did deserve some sort of summarized explanation, at least. "On Korriban, Dustil attacked me. I defended myself, and while doing so, Carth showed up. He didn't see the initial confrontation, so he thought I was attacking his son. When Dustil turned to attack Carth, I jumped in to defend." She frowned. "And I went a little overboard. I got angry and threw Dustil against the wall." Revan sighed. "I… I ran away because I thought Dustil was dead."

"But you didn't kill him," Mission said.

"I didn't know he was alive until Canderous showed me the video T3 recorded," Revan softly said. "It doesn't surprise me Dustil did this. If it wasn't for you, Mish, Carth probably would be dead."

"What do you mean?"

"You stopped him." She looked at Mission. "If you hadn't…" Revan shook her head. "If I had been thinking clearly on Korriban, I wouldn't've—"

"Hey, you're not exactly the only one at fault here, okay?" Mission snapped. Before Revan could ask what she meant, the blue Twi'lek continued. "You shoulda heard all the stuff Carth said about you. He kept insisting that Dustil was a helpless victim of some kind, and that you had gone all evil again." Her face fell. "And he kept yellin' at me for stickin' up for you. I figured Dustil must have done somethin' first, but Carth kept sayin' otherwise. I bet now Carth realizes you were right, and I bet he's sorry he made you leave. A little too late though, huh?"

Revan said nothing.

"I know you feel like you owe him an apology for everything because you think it's your fault," Mission softly added. "But Carth's gotta apologize to you, too, you know."

_And that's one conversation I'm not looking forward to,_ Revan thought. She wondered if everything would go back to the way it was… provided there weren't any side effects to Carth's current condition. Maybe Carth did realize she was right about Dustil being dangerous; she had seen some sort of realization on his face in T3's recording. Maybe Carth would apologize. Then again, maybe he wouldn't.

Revan released her hold on Mission's arm. "There. You should be fine now."

Mission wiggled her fingers. "Thanks!" she said as she began pulling the bandages off. She looked at Revan. "It's getting pretty late," the teenager continued. "Why don't you stay here with Carth, and I'll go take everyone to get something to eat. I can bring you back something. What would you like?"

"Anything that's not covered in green gravy," Revan replied.

"Huh?"

With a smile, Revan said, "Ask Nal."

Mission gave her a puzzling look, but simply said, "Okay. I'll be back later."

After Mission left, Revan turned her focus back to Carth. She brushed her fingertips along the side of his face, then gently through his hair. "So you said some mean stuff about me, huh?" she softly said. She stared at him for a while, then gently thwacked the two locks of hair that lay over his brow and sighed when they bounced right back into place. "Really wish you'd wake up, Flyboy."

Her thoughts lingered back to what Canderous had said earlier, about her using the Force to heal Carth. She couldn't heal Carth back to perfect health for that was beyond her healing skills. But she could help speed some things along. She'd just healed Mission's broken arm. If anything, it was worth a shot. Carth's bone fractures and bruises might be a good place to start, she thought, and focused in on those

Revan held Carth's hand tight, and tried to touch his mind with the Force as she healed him. But she didn't receive an answer. She glanced up at the monitor the aid had pointed to earlier. If she was reading it right, then there was brain activity. Why wasn't Carth replying? She tried again, but this time sending him her thoughts instead of attempting to establish a conversation.

Revan gently pillowed her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. Although an unconventional meditation position, she concentrated on feeling out through the Force to heal his wounds and get him to respond. Revan just hoped it would work.


	30. Dinner And A Show

**Chapter Thirty: Dinner And A Show**

Now:

"…so she told Wayt that she wanted five hundred credits per crate," Nal said, jabbing his nerf steak with his fork. "Just like that. And he agreed!" He shoved the piece of meat into his mouth. "Blew my mind," he finished as little pieces of food flew out of the corners of his mouth.

Mission wrinkled her nose. She looked at Canderous. "He eats all disgusting-like, just like you." Canderous picked up his cup and stuck his pinkie finger out, then delicately sipped his drink. Mission wadded up a napkin and threw it at him.

While Zaalbar and T3 chose to stay in the Infirmary with Revan in case she needed anything, the others wandered off to the local, noisy cantina. The cantina was crowded, as usual, with a band playing in one corner, pazaak players in another, and swoop race gamblers in a third. The three sat in a secluded corner, attempting to keep to themselves. HK-47 had come with, and stood guard at the table in case any "hostile meatbags" attempted to cause trouble, or someone recognized Mission and her connection to Carth. Canderous had warned them all to be on the look out just in case, and Mission had noticed he had been casually scanning the room the entire time they were there. His body language looked as if he was ignoring his surroundings, but Canderous had scouted out entire places before while appearing as if he wasn't paying attention.

"You think TSF'll find Dustil?" Mission asked, glancing around the cantina.

Canderous snorted. "They couldn't find their own asses with a map and a torch."

"You have such great confidence in these people," Nal said, poking his vegetables.

"After all the fodder we went through to get on this station?" he asked. "If anyone's gonna find Dustil, it's gonna be us."

"Query," HK interjected. "Are we to form a search party for the whiny meatbag's offspring?"

"We found Liana with no problem," Canderous said, emphasizing her name in case there were eavesdroppers about. "Sith spawn's confined to this station. This should be easy compared." He took a sip of his drink. "Though, I suppose she'll want us to work along side TSF for fear they think we're trying to cash in on the bounty." He leaned back in his chair. "Liana will wanna hand him over to the Jedi Council, no doubt. Let them deal with him."

"Speaking of her," Mission said, "I promised I'd get her something to eat." She picked up the menu from the center of the table and began looking for things Revan would like.

"Just don't get her anything covered in green gravy," Nal said. "She hates that."

Canderous frowned. "I don't think I want to know."

In the background, a group of people near the swoop bike betting table let out a loud cheer, their rider assumingly coming in first. Nal took another bite of his steak, then pointed at Mission. "So how do you guys know each other?" He chewed a bit, then continued, pointing his fork at Canderous. "I know how you know Liana, but—" he pointed back at Mission "—I dunno about you."

Mission wrinkled her nose again, then used her menu to try and block her view of Nal and the pieces of food spewing from his mouth. "We met on Taris, couple days before we met Canderous. Big Z got captured by Gamorrean slave traders, and she helped rescue him. Then Big Z pledged a life debt to her." She shrugged. "Where Big Z goes, I go."

"You look up to her like she's a role model, or something."

Mission raised an eyebrow. "You say that like it's horrible."

"No," Nal said. "Just an observation."

"She's my big sister," she continued, taking offense. Mission glared. "Is there a problem with that?"

"No, no, no problem!" Nal defended. He looked at Canderous. "No problem. Please don't hurt me." The Mandalorian rolled his eyes. Nal swallowed his food, then said, "It's just… I've noticed how… loyal you all are to her. I mean—" he gestured towards Canderous "—you and the Wookiee and the droid went all out lookin' for her, and then this one—"

"Mission," she corrected.

"_Mission_," Nal said, "runs over to her once she shows up, all happy to see her. And then there's a guy all beat up—"

"Carth," Mission snapped.

"_Carth_ who's all beat up who she apparently loves and may or may not be engaged to." Nal shook his head. "It just…" His voice trailed off.

"Blows your mind she has friends and people who care about her?" Mission asked. "What's so strange about that?"

Nal voice dropped down to a hush. He leaned over the table, closer to Mission. "A Sith Lord havin' friends? That doesn't strike you as, I dunno, odd?"

"Being said friend," Mission answered, "it doesn't strike me as odd, no. She's not that person anymore. She's the same person we knew on Taris. Maybe a little more paranoid since finding out what the Jedi Council did to her, but she's still Liana Suul, and I don't care about her past, mind wipe or not! She stuck by us, and I'm stickin' by her."

Nal shook his head. "I just wonder what her father would say if he found out the truth."

Canderous frowned. "Her father?"

Nal nodded. "He's a droid mechanic on Corellia. Has a little shop selling droids and droid parts. All he does is brag how his daughter's a Jedi. Bet he doesn't know his daughter is the reason why the Jedi entered the Mandalorian Wars."

"Does she know this?" Mission asked.

Nal nodded. "I told her. First she said that she didn't know him. But after finding out she built Mr. Scary Droid over here? Yeah, she's Lieno's daughter. No doubt in my mind. Even looks like him." He frowned. "Well, except for the part where he's bald. And the mustache. And overweight. But other than that, she looks just like him."

Canderous snorted. "Minor details."

"I haven't seen him in years, though," Nal continued. "Don't even know if the shop's still there."

Silence fell over the table just as the band changed songs from a fast, up-beat jazz number to a slow waltz. Mission stood up. "I'm gonna order her somethin' to go before I forget."

"HK," Canderous said, "go with Mission."

"Hey, I can take care of myself!" she protested.

"I know," he replied. "But those people three tables over have done nothing but stare at us." He picked up his cup and downed the contents. "Either they're confused why a teenage girl's hangin' out with two older men, or they know who we are."

"Query: Shall I make it known we do not enjoy onlookers by blasting their squishy eyeballs out of their sockets?"

Nal's eyes grew wide.

"No," Canderous said, keeping his body language casual. "Just keep a close eye on Mission. I've got a blaster on me in case trouble starts."

As Mission and HK walked away, Nal asked Canderous: "Does trouble follow you people everywhere?"

Canderous shrugged. "Keeps life exciting."

"So is this what you people do for a living?" Nal continued. "You just follow Liana everywhere?"

"I'm just a loyal friend who'd follow her to hell and back."

"But you're a Mandalorian."

"And you're an idiot."

Nal sighed. "My point is, didn't she wipe your people out?"

Canderous leaned back in his chair, balancing on the back two legs. "For someone who wanted to kill her, you're full of questions about her history and friendships."

Nal sighed. "Look, I'm… I'm sorry I tried to kill her. It's just…" He looked at Canderous. "How did you react when you discovered the truth?"

"It was a surprise, I'll admit," he said. "But no one wanted to kill her, not even Carth, and he's the one who took it the hardest."

"I'm assuming he got over it given how we're, you know, here?"

"Once he pulled his head out of his ass." He reached over and picked up his empty glass, hoping there was still a drop of ale left inside. "Course, now he's rammed his head back up it. So is the life of an Onasi, I suppose."

From behind them, a shriek filled the air. Canderous and Nal instantly turned to see HK pointing his rifle at a male civilian dressed in spacer clothes, and Mission with her hands firmly on her hips. "I told you people to leave me alone!" Mission yelled at the man. A quick glance to his left told Canderous that the men harassing Mission were the same people that just moments ago had been watching them. "So get on outta here unless you wanna see what my droid can do!"

"Shouldn't you go over there?" Nal asked.

Nal's exclusion of himself from the rescue party didn't go unnoticed. "She's doin' pretty good on her own," Canderous replied.

Neither man could hear what the spacer was saying to Mission, but the crowded room started to thin out as people began to head for the door. "I said NO!" Mission cried. "I ain't helpin' you thugs find anyone!"

"Bounty hunters after Dustil," Canderous said, spotting a few more men approaching. He stood up. "You got a blaster on you?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Come with me and act brave." Canderous headed over towards the crowd, Nal on his heels. His weapon was firmly in his hand, finger on the trigger. "Hey, leave the kid alone!"

The man who originally approached Mission turned towards Canderous. "This doesn't concern you, pal."

"You got a problem with her, then you got a problem with me," he replied. "And you also got a problem with the droid."

"Threat," HK said to the man, his voice deep and crude. "Touch the Twi'lek and lose an organ."

"Hey, look," the spacer said. "I'm only lookin' for information. And she's friends with the bounty's father—"

"And she already told you she's not helping," Canderous finished. "So why don't you leave her alone?"

"Why don't you go to hell!" the spacer yelled. He took a step towards Canderous. Before he could get any further, HK stepped in and jabbed the barrel of his rifle against the spacer's forehead.

"Query: Does the meatbag brain constitute as an organ?"

"It does control all organs in the body," Nal piped up. "So I guess it counts."

"Gratification: Excellent."

The spacer held his hands up in the air and slowly stepped backwards. "You got lucky this time, kid!" the man said as his friends joined him in leaving.

"So did you!" she retorted. "People who mess with me get their guts splattered on the floor!"

"Ooo, there's an image," Nal muttered.

"All right, kid, tone it down," Canderous softly said. "Get your take-out order and let's get outta here."

Mission huffed again. "Thinkin' I'd help them cash in on Dustil." She went to the counter and grabbed Revan's dinner. "If Zaalbar were here, he'd tear their arms off."

"How did they know who you were?" Nal asked.

Mission sighed. "When the holonews first broke the story, they showed images from the celebration after the Star Forge was destroyed. Showed clips of Carth all smilin' and proud. They showed clips of me, too, since I was also attacked. There aren't a lot of Twi'lek's runnin' around here that aren't cantina dancers. Ain't too hard to figure out who I am."

"What about the rest of us?" Canderous asked, concerned. "Any vids?"

Mission shook her head. "Not that I saw."

"Well, somehow I have a feeling he isn't going to be the last one approaching you," Nal said, changing the subject back to the bounty hunter. "I don't know how much this Exchange bounty is worth, but I can bet it's a cute credit worth enough to harass you over. If I were hunting Dustil, I'd certainly approach you lookin' for information."

"Spineless is right," Canderous said. Nal rolled his eyes at Canderous's insult. "There'll be more where that one came from. Let's take the long way back in case we're trailed. I'm sure Liana'll forgive you if her dinner is cold."


	31. Corellia Flashbacks

**Chapter Thirty-One: Corellia Flashbacks**

Now:

"_I don't want to lose my daughter! Ever since her mother died, it's just been the two of us! And now you want to take Liana away? I don't think so!"_

_Liana lingered in the doorway of her father's droid shop, watching her father argue with two Jedi Knights. They had entered the shop moments before, and her father had assumed they were customers. He hadn't known, however, that they were interested in recruiting his daughter for the Jedi Order._

"_That's not your decision to make, Mister Suul," one of the Knights, an older man with black hair, said. Liana was intimidated by the man's appearance and only glanced at his face. "That decision is up to your daughter."_

"_She's five years old! How could she possibly make a decision like that? No, no, she's not going!"_

"_Your daughter is strong in the Force," the Jedi Knight continued. "She is stronger than others her age and many older. She also has skills most children don't." _

"_She's a quick learner."_

"_If she isn't trained by the Jedi to control her powers, she could become a risk."_

"_What do you mean she's a risk? She's the kindest child any parent—"_

"_She needs to be trained by the Jedi, otherwise—"_

"_And then I'll never see her again!" her father said. "No, I've already lost my wife, and I won't lose my daughter!"_

"_So you will hold her back out of your own selfishness?" the Jedi snapped. "Individuals sensitive to the Force who aren't trained or are improperly trained-"_

"_Vrook," the second Jedi Knight, a female, interjected. "Perhaps we should ask Liana what she thinks?" The two knights then turned and looked right at her. She blinked, then tried to hide behind one of the scrap droids off to the side._

"_It's okay, Little One," she heard her father say. Liana looked up and saw her father crouching down in front of her. "These people think you could be a Jedi. Do you want to hear what they have to say?"_

_Liana frowned. "But you just said you didn't want me to be a Jedi."_

_Her father hung his head. He then looked over at the two Jedi Knights. "Give me a few minutes alone with my daughter." The two Jedi nodded, then left the shop. _

"_Are you mad at me?" Liana frowned._

"_Why would I be mad at you?" he asked. He held his arms out indicating he wanted a hug. Liana obliged and hugged her father. He scooped her up, then sat her down on his workbench. "These Jedi Knights think you could be one of them. They say you're strong in the Force. You have skills others your age don't."_

"_But that's because you taught me how to build droids," she said._

_Her father smiled. "And you're really good at it, too." He cupped the side of her face. "If you join the Jedi, I… I might never see you again. And that scares me, Little One."_

"_Do I have to leave?"_

"_No, you don't have to," he said. "But the decision is yours. If you want to be a Jedi, you have to tell me."_

Revan slowly opened her eyes. She blinked a few times then sat up gradually. She winced as a pain shot down her back and neck. _That's what I get for sleeping at such an odd angle_, she thought. Revan rubbed the back of her neck as looked down at Carth. She immediately noticed there was more color in his face, and the bruises appeared to have faded. He was still unconscious, but whatever she had done seemed to have helped some. Revan carefully lifted the corners on the gauze and bandages on Carth's face, and saw the cuts, as well, had healed over, leaving no indication of scars. She didn't sense any medical personnel close by, so she gently removed the gauze and bandages from his face, neck, and arms, then threw out the bandages in the near-by trash receptacle. Her thoughts began to drift back to the newly-surfaced memory. Canderous would probably yell at her for not continuing to heal Carth, but she didn't know what else there was she could do; her skills weren't as advanced as Jolee's. Right now she needed a minute or two to think.

Nal had said something to her on Tatooine about knowing her father. She'd had a glimpse of a memory with her father teaching her the parts of a droid, but it only lasted a few seconds. She'd done her best to remember other things about her father, but no other memories surfaced. After finding out about Carth, she had forgotten about searching for her childhood memories. Now, suddenly, to have another memory, a much more vivid one surface…

Revan took a deep breath and leaned against the wall. First things first. Carth had to get better and Dustil had to be found. She looked over at Carth and just stared. She closed her eyes and tried again to touch his mind. _I wish you'd wake up, Flyboy_. But like before, there was no response.

The door to Carth's room opened. Revan looked up and saw Mission enter. "Hey," she said. "Brought you something to eat." She walked over to Revan and handed her the take-out container. "I made sure it wasn't covered in gravy."

Revan smiled. "Thanks."

Mission looked at Carth. "He looks a lot better," she said, some surprise in her voice. She turned back to Revan and smiled.

"I… I tried to heal him some," Revan admitted. "I don't know what else I can do. Maybe the rest is up to him."

"You feelin' better?" the teenager asked.

"Maybe," she answered. "A lot's happened… I really don't know, Mish. I was so scared to come back and face him. Now… now I just want Carth to wake up."

"I know how you feel," Mission whispered. "I said some pretty bad things to him, and I didn't get a chance to apologize." She sighed. "Are you staying here with Carth tonight?"

"If they'll let me," Revan said.

"They will," Mission nodded. "Big Z and Canderous said that if you're staying here, so are they. I'm guessing HK and T3'll wanna stay. And I—"

Revan held up a hand. "I appreciate it. But why don't you bring everyone to the apartment so they can sleep there? There's enough room for everyone."

She shrugged. "I'll suggest it, but I think everyone wants to stay here. Well, Nal probably doesn't. But I don't think Canderous is gonna give him a choice."

Revan cracked a small smile. Leave it to the Mandalorian. "Have everyone go back. I'll call you guys if Carth wakes up."

Mission nodded. "Okay. Oh! And Canderous wants to talk to you later about Dustil. He said that he doesn't trust TSF to find him and wants to look for him on his own."

"What brought this on?"

"I think it was the people in the cantina," Mission answered. "Not exactly sure. He'd said something before they came up to me."

"Came up to you?"

She nodded. "They were bounty hunters and wanted information on Dustil. But I wouldn't tell 'em anything."

Suddenly Canderous looking for Dustil didn't sound like such a bad idea. "Tell him I'll talk with him tomorrow, and not to do anything without checking with me first."

"I will," she said. "Enjoy your dinner. Sorry if it's cold."

"That's all right."

"And call me if Carth wakes up."

"You'll be the first person to know."

Mission gave her a hug, then left the room. Revan wanted more information about people who approached Mission, but now wasn't the time. The teen wasn't shaken up about it, so maybe it was nothing to be concerned about. She'd get answers tomorrow, anyway.

Revan sat down on the chair next to Carth's bed, placed her meal on one of the tables, and started to eat. Her mind drifted back to the memory she had while sleeping and she wondered why childhood memories were suddenly surfacing. Was it because of what Nal had said? Maybe his mention of knowing her father triggered the flashbacks? Revan put her eating utensil down, then looked at Carth.

"So you always wanted to know about my visions when I had them," she whispered. "I had another one."

Thinking about her surfaced memory began to trigger other feelings, other emotions from that day. "It was Master Vrook who recruited me for the Jedi. So I suppose me turning Sith can all, ironically, be blamed on him." She smiled slightly at the thought.

"There was someone else who came, too," she continued. "A, a female Knight. I can't remember who, but they were the ones who came to my father's droid shop." Revan paused. "I didn't want to go at first. My mother died when I was little, and I didn't want to leave my father alone. He was the only parent I ever knew, and we were so close." She paused again, more memories coming to her. "The first week at the Jedi Temple I cried myself to sleep. I was afraid I'd never see him again."

Revan poked at her dinner. "Nal knows my father, you know." She sighed. "I suppose you don't know who Nal is. He's the smuggler I… Well, I met him on Korriban. He… he's a good man, heart's always in the right place but his brain is always a little slow." She smiled. "Kinda reminds me of you sometimes. Things he does…" Revan ran her fingers through her hair. "Nal says that my father owns a droid shop on Corellia, and brags to everyone that his daughter's a Jedi."

She remembered the vision she had on Tatooine where her father taught her the parts of a droid. "My father taught me how to build droids. Maybe that's how I was able to build HK." She smiled slightly. "Wonder what my father would say if he met HK. He'd probably be proud and concerned for my well-being at the same time."

Maybe… maybe when this was all over with, she could return to Corellia and see him. Revan looked at Carth. "Would you go to Corellia with me? Just so I could see my father again?" She bit her lip. "I don't… I not sure if he knows I was a Sith." Revan looked away. "What if he does? Revan's a popular name on Deralia, but… but not anywhere else. I mean, I know pretty much everyone thinks Revan was a man, and Revan's my second name, but… What if my father knew the truth? What if he didn't? How would I tell him? Or should I just keep my mouth shut?" Revan turned back to Carth. "You're a father. Which would you rather? Jordo came right out and told you about Dustil being at the Sith Academy, but that was different. He thought you already knew."

The pilot remained motionless.

"Really wish you'd wake up, Flyboy," she sighed. Revan reached over and gently stroked his brow, then flicked his two stray locks of hair. "Otherwise I'll start talking to myself."


	32. Apology

**Chapter Thirty-Two: Apology**

Now:

Revan was seated at the far end of Carth's room, mindlessly tracing the rim of the cup in her hand with the tip of her index finger. She'd spent the night in Carth's room, sleeping in the chair next to him. It wasn't very comfortable, and she woke up almost every hour, would check his vitals, attempt to communicate through the Force, then drift back to sleep. Revan left Carth's side that morning long enough to return to his apartment and speak with Canderous about his desire to track down Dustil without the Telos Security Force's help—and grab a quick sanisteam wash-down and change into fresh clothes. It seemed the others had worked out a plan in her absence and were leaving soon to begin searching for Dustil. Revan didn't know the specific details of the plan, but trusted Canderous. After all, the Mandalorian found her in the middle of the galaxy. How hard could tracking down one person bound to a space station be? She just hoped that Dustil was close by, and could be found quickly. Revan knew she could use the Force to find him, but it was risk she wasn't willing to take just yet. Dustil would sense her searching for him, and depending on the teenager's mood, it could be dangerous. No, it was best not to use the Force, saving it as a last resort.

Revan returned to the med bay and found Carth's condition had remained unchanged. She gently folded her right hand over his and tried once again to touch his mind. She was interrupted by a knock at the door and turned around to see Nal standing there. He asked if he could come in, and she nodded. As he entered the room, Nal looked at Carth. "So this is the man of the hour, huh? Doesn't look so bad to me."

"He was a lot worse before," she said. "I don't have the proper skills to heal him completely at once."

"Do so much, take a break?"

Revan nodded. "Minor injuries are no problem. But…" She didn't finish the sentence.

Nal shoved his hands in his trouser pockets and tried to change topics. "I didn't get a chance to talk to you this morning." He hesitated. "How you holding up?"

"Okay, for the most part."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Just help with Canderous's search party," she said. "Unless you have the skills of a Jedi Healer."

Silence filled the room. She sensed hesitation from the smuggler; there was a reason Nal came to visit her, and it wasn't to see Carth. "What else did you want to ask me?" When Nal shot Revan an inquisitive look, she smiled. "There's something else on your mind."

He sighed, then gestured towards one of the vacant chairs near her. Revan nodded, and the smuggler sat down. "I'm havin' a hard time believing you're Revan." He hesitated, then leaned forward, leaning his arms on his thighs. It reminded her of the same way Carth faltered before discussing something serious with her. "Everything I ever thought about him—_her_ was that she was this evil, heartless person," Nal said. "People say she—you were a brilliant War General, but deep down I always thought Darth Revan was a person of pure, untainted evil. But then here you are in front of me, and you're not this person." He shook his head. "You're strong and confident, and you've certainly got an interesting collection of friends. And you've got a man who's lying battered and bruised here who clearly you love a lot—" He frowned. "Aren't Jedi not allowed to love, and all that stuff?"

Revan cracked half a smile. "We're not sworn to celibacy, if that's what you mean."

Nal blushed. "Oh, I, I didn't mean to imply—uh, I mean—"

"We not allowed strong attachments," she explained.

"So… you get a free pass when it comes to lust?"

Revan smiled again. "The Jedi Council teaches that the emotions associated with love will lead a Jedi to the Dark Side. I tend to disagree." Revan looked at Carth. "A wise man once told me that love can save someone, not condemn them."

When silence filled the room again, Revan asked, "So if you've come to the conclusion that I'm not the person I used to be, then why, may I ask, did you want to kill me?"

Nal's face fell. "I was angry that you lied to me. I was stupid and I thought you didn't deserve to live."

"And you felt it was up to you to terminate my life?"

"I… I was… confused," he sighed. "It, it doesn't excuse my actions, but…" He fidgeted in his chair. "I was more focused on you being Darth Revan than you being who you are now. Canderous told me about the Jedi Council submitting you to the mind wipe against your will, and that you weren't Darth Revan anymore. I… I guess it didn't really sink in until I saw you argue to get onto this station. Then to see the way Mission was so happy to see you, and how concerned about her you were." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Course, I think the real kicker was when you threw me against the wall and screamed that we'd be the one responsible if Carth died."

Revan looked down at the floor. "I'm sorry about that," she whispered.

"Don't be," he said. "I deserved it." She looked at him. "That's the—" Nal paused. "That's the first time anyone's ever gotten in my face and told me a consequence of one of my jobs. I'm so used to smuggling medicine and weapons, not really caring who I'm grabbing from and giving to." He sighed. "Never really thought about it before. I mean, really, really thought about it."

Revan didn't know what to say. Instead, she changed the topic. "The rest is really up to Carth now," she said. "I--I've done all I could."

"Yeah," he said. "But if the commodore's girl wasn't a Jedi, he'd be screwed."

Revan's stomach tightened. "Thank you for the eloquent word choice."

Nal muttered an apology. "I… I just wanted to let you know that I'm sorry for… for everything from before," he added. "I don't think you're evil. Canderous was right when he said that you've changed."

She gave him a half-smile. "But I still scare you?"

"Oh, hell, you'll always scare me," he said. She softly laughed. "That's just… all I wanted to say. For now. I'm sure I'll have more later."

"I appreciate it," she said.

Nal nodded, then stood up. "They're all waitin' for me. Guess I better go. I, uh, I'll call you if we find Dustil."

"Thanks," she said.

Nal nodded once more, then left the room.

Revan smiled and shook her head. She looked over at Carth again, then closed her eyes. _That was Nal, by the way_, she sent. _He's a good man. Little strange, but he's harmless. For the most part. You'd like him. I'll have to properly introduce you two once you wake up._

"Hey, uh—Oh."

Revan turned around again and saw Nal standing in the doorway.

"Uh, sorry," he said. "I forgot. Mission's in the waiting area and said to get you. There's a—" he frowned "—Bas…tila? I think. Anyway, she's on the comm lookin' for you."

_Bastila?_ she thought. "Thanks."

Before Nal could reply, Revan was out the door and heading towards the waiting area. She saw Mission and Zaalbar standing in front of the holomonitor, staring at the screen. Mission saw Revan approach. "Hang on, Bastila," the teenager said. "She's here." She pressed a button on the side of the screen then rushed over to Revan. "Bastila says the Jedi Council's angry at you."

Her eyes widened. "For what?"

"Dunno," Mission said. "But you need to talk to Bastila now."

Revan rolled her eyes and sat down in front of the communications screen. "Like I need this right now." She pressed the HOLD button, and Bastila appeared on the monitor.

"_Thank the Force!" _Bastila sighed. _"Where have you been? What have you been doing all this time?"_

Knowing she couldn't tell the full truth, Revan replied, "Looking for Dustil."

"_Clearly you haven't been doing a good job!"_ the younger Jedi scolded. _"The Council is angry—"_

"For what? What did I do wrong this time?"

Bastila glared. _"It's been over two months since you last made contact. The Jedi Council told you to keep in touch with them, letting them know of your progress. Do you even know how lucky you are they let you go with Carth in the first place? Now to receive news that Carth's son has attacked him and is currently on the loose on Citadel Station, not to mention the station lockdown—and I can see you're looking hard for Carth's son."_

"Wait," Revan interjected. "Back up. What do you mean I'm lucky to have—"

"_Perhaps I spoke out of turn."_

"Nothing's changed," Revan snapped. "Tell me what you know, Bastila."

"_I'm the one calling you," _Bastila returned. _"You tell me what you've been up to!"_

"Or?"

Bastila blinked. _"There is no 'or'! Do you have any idea the amount of trouble you are in right now?"_

"What are you talking about?" she asked. "When we were looking for the Star Maps, not once—"

"_That was different."_

"So trying to reunite father and son trumps taking down a Sith Empire?"

"_The situation appears to have gotten out of hand—"_

"Appears?" Mission jumped in. "Only appears? Where's the Jedi Council getting their news from? The holonet? Because believe me—"

"_That wasn't what I was referring to, Mission."_

Revan looked at her friend. "Bastila, what's going on?"

The young Jedi sighed. _"Perhaps I shouldn't be speaking with you on an unsecured line. I will find a more secure means to contact you."_

With that, the communication ended.

Revan turned to Mission. "What's the holonet been saying?"

"Oh, nothing out of the ordinary as far as fiction goes," the Twi'lek said. "Did you know it was Carth who single-handedly killed Malak?"

"And that's all I needed to hear," Revan sighed. She stood up and headed towards the hall.

"What are you gonna do?" Mission asked.

"One crisis at a time," she replied. "Carth first, Jedi second."


	33. Nal the Bounty Hunter

**Chapter Thirty-Three: Nal the Bounty Hunter**

Now:

Nal Simer, confused smuggler turned bounty hunter, sat on a bench in the main area of Residential Module 085, his legs extended in front of him and crossed at the ankle, his hands placed behind his head. Somewhere on this station was Dustil Onasi, the son of his smuggling partner's maybe-fiancé, and it was his job to locate the teenager.

Course, if he knew what Dustil Onasi looked like, it would be so much easier.

Nal pulled a datapad out of his pocket. Before leaving the medical module, Mission had given him a picture of the Sith teenager. He turned the datapad on and looked at the digital photograph. Dark combed-back hair, slightly hooked nose, mean glare. Dustil looked like his father, but with sideburns and no beard. Nal turned the datapad off and pocketed it again. If he saw a younger version of Revan's man running around, then he'd found the bounty. Until then, it was sit back and people watch.

Well, no, not really. There was no evidence that Dustil was in this module, but it was the closest place to the infirmary, and a good place to start. However, Dustil could be all the way over on the other side of the station by now, even if Canderous thought otherwise. Regardless, finding Dustil was primarily Canderous's responsibility. As Nal sat there lounging, the Mandalorian and the scary droid were questioning people around the station. They said they'd contact Nal with any leads, and from there it was up to the smuggler. In the meantime, he was to keep an eye out for the Commodore's Sith kid and call Canderous if he saw Dustil.

TSF officers began another patrol of the area, their heeled boots clicking and clacking as they walked across the metal floor, the sound echoing off the metal walls. Nal winced, feeling like he was stuck inside a rations can. TSF seemed to patrol the module once every hour in their neatly-pressed blue, yellow, and white uniforms—which made them look more like flight attendants in Nal's opinion—stopping and questioning some people, ignoring others. Profiling for Dustil, maybe? Nal yawned, then scratched under his left arm. Since Canderous had given him no time frame, he could be sitting in Residential Module 085 for hours listening to TSF patrols walk up and down the halls. He should have brought a holozine for entertainment.

Nal's stomach growled. He'd eaten breakfast before leaving, so why was he hungry now? He looked at his chrono, and saw it had been five hours since he left the infirmary. Nal stretched, then stood up and headed towards the shuttle cars. A quick bite at the cantina wouldn't hurt anyone. Besides, he could question some people on his own, too. Maybe find out some information. That wouldn't jeopardize Canderous's investigation, would it?

He made his way to the shuttle car waiting area, shoved his hands in his pockets, and looked out the transparisteel window. All Nal saw was metal tower after metal tower. The station was massive and he wondered how long it had taken the Republic to build it—it wasn't like they kept these things stored in a warehouse just in case a planet was destroyed. If Dustil wasn't in the oh-eight-oh sector, how in the galaxy would they find him? True, it could be worse, but it still seemed pretty damn impossible. Maybe it was because he didn't have as much faith as the others. Liana wanted them to find Dustil before the TSF did. Canderous was more than willing to help out, which didn't surprise Nal. In the short amount of time he knew this cast of characters, it seemed all Liana had to say was, "Kill!" and Canderous would ask how many. Or was that analogy better for HK? Nal scratched his head. Maybe both of them, come to think of it. No, HK wouldn't ask how many. He'd blast everything that moved until his rifle needed to be recharged.

"Excuse me?" someone next to him said. Nal turned to his left. "Do you have the time?"

"Huh?" He looked and saw a man wearing a brown poncho with the hood up. "Oh yeah, sure." Nal held out his wrist.

The man lifted the hood slightly and read Nal's chrono. He noticed the guy was fairly young with a dark hair. Why he felt the need to hide with a poncho and hood, Nal didn't know. Maybe he was cold, or had embarrassing facial scars. "Thanks," the man said, and re-adjusted his hood.

"Sure, no problem."

Nal shoved his hands back in pockets and continued to stare out the window. He began whistling to himself, wondering how long they'd be on the station until Dustil was found. Hopefully they'd find him soon. Nal wanted to get off this station, even though he had nowhere else to go. Wayt wouldn't give him another job—not that Nal would take it after everything the crime lord had recently put him through. True, there were other bosses on Nar Shaddaa, but somehow he had a feeling all the bosses in the Corellian Sector knew what had happened over the kolto. There was always the Coruscant Under City, but competing for jobs from rookie smugglers wasn't Nal's idea of fun.

First things first: Find the Sith Kid. Nal pulled out the datapad again and stared at Dustil's picture. Young kid, dark hair, sideburns, slightly hooked nose. Finding him was going to be—

Nal stopped. That kid who asked him the time had dark hair, sideburns, and a nose that looked just like…

His eyes grew wide.

Quickly, Nal spun around and looked. Where had that kid gone?

He spotted the man in the poncho onboard the shuttle… just as the doors to the shuttle closed and the shuttle pulled away. He kicked the side of the wall, cursed, sighed, and ran his fingers through his blonde hair.

One thing was for sure: He couldn't tell Canderous what happened.

Nal paused. Maybe he could. He'd just have to leave out the part where he didn't watch the shuttle fly away towards its destination.

Nal cursed again, then rushed over to the shuttle entrance. He grabbed a man standing in line. "Where was that shuttle headed?" he demanded.

"Huh?" the man asked, confused and slightly panicked.

"The shuttle that just left here!" Nal shouted. "Where was it going?"

"Uh… Oh-eight-nine."

At least someone was paying attention. "Is there another shuttle leaving for that module?"

"The schedule is posted on the screen just over there." He pointed to the computer screen on the side wall.

Nal apologized then thanked the man. He glanced at the schedule and saw he had another hour before the next shuttle departed for Residential Module 089. "Stang!" he cursed.

Onlookers muttered to themselves about another passenger missing a shuttle as Nal wandering over to an isolated corner. He pulled out his commlink and paged Canderous, keeping the microphone close to his mouth and making sure others didn't overhear. "This is Simer. Target is headed to Res Mod oh-eight-nine." Nal paused. "I think." He could be wrong, but _a_ lead was better than _no_ lead.

* * *

"You off-worlders wouldn't understand. Commodore Onasi is a hero to his people."

Canderous drank his whiskey. "So I've heard."

The Mandalorian was seated at a cantina in Entertainment Module 081 looking for any leads on Dustil. Normally Canderous would enter similar establishments to enjoy the scenery of half-naked Twi'leks dancing for the crowd or drunk swoop bike gamblers watching their life savings disappear. But he couldn't afford the luxury this time. Onasi's kid could hide all he wanted, but he had to surface at least once a day for food. He figured if he and HK camped out at various cantinas in the 080 sector, they were liable to run into Dustil. In the meantime, he sat at the cantina bar and played the part of a bounty hunter looking to cash in on the Exchange's credits. So far, Canderous was having no luck with leads. All Citadel Station residents were interested in was giving Canderous a history lesson on Carth. As Canderous took another swig of his drink, he wondered why no two Citadel residents had the same story of Carth's past.

The man seated next to Canderous continued as the Mandalorian flagged the bartender for a refill. "Sure, plenty of Telosians were in the military. But most of them died or joined the Sith. But Carth Onasi was a hero, like the time he saved those people at Serroco before the Mandies destroyed the planet."

Canderous raised an eyebrow at the mention of Serroco. It was the first time someone had mentioned Carth was involved in that battle. Prior to now, he had no knowledge of the Republic pilot's military history during the Mandalorian Wars. When he had asked Carth at point blank range which battles he'd been at, the pilot refused to answer, stating he'd rather not relive the horrors of war.

"Onasi was all over the holonews for his fast-thinking, savin' those Serroco people," the man continued. "Minute Republic forces were caught off-guard by the Mandies surprise attack, Onasi called almost twenty Serroco cities with a false weather alarm. Drove a lot of citizen underground thinkin' a big storm was comin'. Guess they didn't know that storm was really a troop of bucket-heads."

The Mandalorians won the battle of Serroco, but they hadn't fulfilled Mandalore's orders. Their orders were specific: the planet was to be destroyed, the people killed. But somehow there were survivors. According to this Telosian, Carth Onasi single-handedly outsmarted Mandalore and his entire fleet. He wrinkled his nose and drank his whiskey. Canderous wasn't one to hold grudges; He'd learned that lesson the hard way with Jagi, and he certainly wasn't going down that path again. Mandalorians looked for glory in battle, win or lose, and, as maddening as it was, Carth Onasi had been the better warrior that day.

The man wasn't finished. "People cheered that a Telosian was a war hero, kickin' the fodder out of the Mandies." He shook his head. "They shoulda killed each and every one of those murglaks! Wipe them off the face of the galaxy." Canderous clenched his fist as the man continued. "Preach about honor while killing innocent—"

"Okay, look," the Mandalorian spat. "I just want to find Onasi's kid. I don't need to listen to your ignorant opinions of the Mandalorian Clans."

The man's eyes narrowed. "So you can do what with Dustil? Give him to the Exchange? Forget it, Spacer! Even if I knew something, I wouldn't tell you!"

"That kid tried to kill your war hero!"

"He's also a fellow Telosian! We have to stick together! There ain't many of us left!"

"He doesn't exactly fit the role of model citizen, now, does he? You really want his actions to reflect upon Telosians as a whole? Have the galaxy think all Telosians do is turn on their own parents?"

The man glared. "We don't betray our own kind!"

"He betrayed his father," Canderous pointed out. While he could relate to the man's loyalty, it wasn't exactly helping. "If you don't have any information, then just say so. I ain't interested in anything else you have to say."

When his refill whiskey arrived, the Mandalorian downed the contents, tossed a few credits at the bartender, then left. He spotted HK-47 by the door and walked over to the droid. "Let's get out of here. I'm tired of talking to that _Mir'osik._"

"Translation," HK said. "Mandalorian insult equivalent to having meatbag feces inside one's cranium cavity instead of—"

"I know what it means," Canderous snarled.

HK changed topics. "Query: Do you have a lead—"

"No," he answered. "Just the urge to blast a few heads."

"Query: May I participate in the carnage? It has been a long time since I terminated a meatbag, and I do miss the screams and—"

Canderous's commlink began beeping. He grumbled as he held the link up to his ear, hoping it was good news.

"_This is Simer. Target headed to Residential Module oh-eight-nine… I think."_

"You think?" Canderous asked.

"_Emphasis on think," _Simer replied.

_Better than nothing_, Canderous thought. "Head there. We'll meet you." He turned to HK. "There's your lead. Let's go."


	34. Media

**Chapter Thirty-Four: Media**

Now:

"Mod oh-eight-nine?" Revan asked, frowning. "That's close by."

Canderous's voice came through her commlink. _"Simer says he thinks Dustil was heading there. HK and I are goin' to check it out. I'll let you know if we find him." _

She looked at the tiny electronic on her wrist. "Thanks."

"_Here anymore from Bastila?"_

"Nope."

"_How's Carth?"_

Revan had been inside Carth's room when Canderous paged her. Currently she was standing in the hall just outside the door. She looked inside the flyboy's infirmary room, her eyes staring at his face. "Still out cold," she sighed.

"_Let me know if he wakes up."_

Revan smiled. "Aww, I didn't know you cared."

She heard Canderous grunt. _"Ordo out."_

Revan softly laughed. As she re-enter Carth's room, she heard Zaalbar approaching. Revan turned to her side. "Hey," she said. The Wookiee nodded, and asked her if everything was okay. "Canderous just called saying Nal thinks he saw Dustil heading to one of the res mods," she said. "They're headin' there to check it out."

The Wookiee woofed that although that was good news, she hadn't answered his question. "You mean is everything okay with me?" she asked. He nodded. "I… I don't know," she sighed. She looked back inside the room at Carth. "This isn't exactly how I envisioned things would turn out after the Star Forge mess was over." She leaned against the wall, and looked at Carth. "I knew things wouldn't be easy once we found Dustil. I… I couldn't've foreseen this."

She looked at Zaalbar. "You know, I never thanked you for finding me." Zaalbar shrugged it off. "But Canderous said you were the one who was instrumental in gathering the search party." He explained it was a team effort. "You're too modest, Zaalbar. If you hadn't contacted Canderous and helped lead the search, I would never have known that Dustil was still alive, never would have known he'd done… this." The Wookiee merely shrugged. Revan looked back in at Carth. "I'm sorry I left in such a hurry," she whispered. "I wasn't thinking straight. I wasn't thinking at all, I suppose."

Zaalbar softly growled not to worry about it anymore; it was over and done with. Right now there were more important things to worry about than changing the past. "Everyone keeps telling me that," Revan said. "You'd think by now I'd listen."

Mission's voice suddenly interrupted as she screamed from the other room: "GUYS! COME HERE!"

Within seconds, Revan and Zaalbar were in the waiting area. The holovision was turned on, and Mission was pointing to the screen. "They're talkin' about Dustil."

"…_Onasi, son of famed Telosian hero Commodore Carth Onasi and former Sith Acolyte at the former Korriban Academy, is still on the run." _

Revan's eyes grew wide. "They know Dustil's a Sith?"

Mission nodded. "That story broke yesterday."

"_Authorities have been unable to apprehend Mr. Onasi so far. In a press conference this morning, Lieutenant Dol Grenn, head of the Telos Security Force, assured Citadel residents that Mr. Onasi is not a threat to anyone on the station." _

Grenn's image came on the screen, his name written at the bottom in basic. _"This is an isolated incident," _Grenn said into a row of microphones,_ "and Citadel Station residents and guests should not be alarmed. My men are patrolling and searching for Dustil Onasi. If you do see him, we ask that you immediately alert station authorities and not approach the individual. He has had Sith training."_

The news anchor continued as shots of Citadel Station's hull panned across the monitor. _"TSF also reports that several dozen ships have attempted to dock with Citadel Station in the past few days, many passengers hoping to aid in the search for Mr. Onasi. Although no vessels are allowed to dock during the lockdown, a Corellian freighter landed on Citadel Station yesterday believed to belong to a Jedi Knight appointed by the Jedi Council to aid in the search for Mr. Onasi."_

Revan groaned.

"_The Jedi Knight working with TSF is believed to be Liana Suul, a close friend of Commodore Onasi. She was a guest of the commodore several months prior, residing in his private luxury quarters here on Citadel Station."_

Revan spat an expletive as pictures of her at the Star Forge celebration appeared on the screen.

"_Jedi Suul aided Commodore Onasi in the destruction of the Star Forge and the death of Lord Malak."_

Revan was taken aback. "_I_ aided _him_?"

Mission grumbled. "Nothing like over-hyping their war hero."

"_And as it was reported yesterday, it is also believed Jedi Suul and Commodore Onasi are romantically involved. The commodore was seen months prior in Citadel's shopping district purchasing an expensive Telosian Blue Diamond—"_

"What the hell does any of this have to do with Dustil?" Revan cried.

"You're the Telosian War Hero's girlfriend," Mission pointed out, flopping down on a nearby chair. "Get used to it. Bet if you go to the local cantinas you'll hear six different stories as to how you and Carth met." She snorted. "Wouldn't be surprised if holonews announces you're engaged or married or pregnant."

"_The Jedi Council was contacted yesterday for comment on Jedi Suul's involvement with Commodore Onasi, but the Council has not yet responded."_

"Turn it off," Revan snapped. Zaalbar obliged. She sat down on the couch and cradled her head in the hands. "Now we know why Bastila called me," she whispered. "They contacted the Council to see if Carth and I are bunkmates."

"It's not your fault," Mission said. "Half of what holonews reports isn't true. So tell the Council that—"

"It's not that easy, Mish." Revan stood up. "I'm gonna call Canderous. Keep an eye on the news in case they broadcast anything else relevant to Dustil."

* * *

"_All over the news?"_

"You think I'd make something like this up?" Revan cried into her commlink. Was Canderous that daft? She began pacing Carth's medical room, her boots clicking against the metal floor, echoing with every step. She was frustrated, nervous, and angry. "If Dustil saw the midday broadcast, then he knows I'm here. Even if he didn't see it, he's bound to overhear someone." Under her breath, she muttered, "And I'm sure he's lovin' the fact his father's in love with a Jedi._"_

"_What about the Jedi Council?"_

"I'm trying real hard not to think about them right now."

"_So… time for Plan B?" _

"Which is?"

"_Still workin' on the details."_

Revan sighed, and raked her fingers through her hair. "All right. The broadcast made no mention of you, HK, or Nal. So we still have a small advantage. But I'm sure it's only a matter of time. So find Dustil, and find him fast."

"_Right. I'll contact you if I find anything."_

"Thanks." Revan ended the call with the press of a button, then leaned against the wall and sighed. She wasn't optimistic that all would end well. Canderous was right when he told her she was used to being in charge. And this was definitely a situation she couldn't control. She didn't want to sit by idly waiting to see how things would turn out; she wanted things to go back to the way they were.

"I am going to drive myself crazy if I keep this up," Revan muttered.

She caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection off the window. She looked tired and worn-out, dark circles under her dull eyes, a mess despite her clean clothes and neatly-combed hair. Had she slept at all the previous night or was she just imagining things? She closed her eyes, and rested her head against the wall. The droning hum over the over-head lights and the soft beeps of the medical equipment monitoring Carth's condition kept the room from being completely quiet, and were proving to be problematic noises for the Jedi trying to think. There was nothing to do but sit and wait, and sitting and waiting wasn't something Revan did best. She supposed instead she could figure out what was going to happen once Dustil was found. But that just lead to another series of 'What Ifs,' and her head hurt too much as it was. And that droning hum from the lights was beginning to get annoying.

One of the computers near Carth's bed chimed, and Revan figured it was indicating that his kolto drip was running low and needed to be changed. Hopefully soon one of the medical droids would arrive and provide a new bag, if there were any left. Coruscant still had not shipped anymore kolto, and the station was running on emergency medical supplies. Carth may be getting priority when it came to whatever kolto packs the med bay could spare, but there were other patients in worse conditions in need of kolto tanks and other medicines for their conditions. And it pained her so much to know that she was a contributing factor to the shortage. Maybe there was a way to buy the original shipment back from Wayt. Revan hadn't spent a single credit from her percentage of the job. Hell, maybe she could pay Simer to steal the shipment back. Wouldn't be like Wayt would report him; a thief never reports another thief to the authorities.

The computer was still chiming. Groaning, Revan stuck her head out of the doorway and looked up and down the halls for a medic. But, like always, when she needed one, no one arrived. Wasn't anyone watching the monitors?

Then, overtop of the beeping and the humming lights, Revan heard a sound. It wasn't a musical sound, but to Revan, it was beautiful.

She heard Carth softy moan.


	35. Point of View

**Chapter Thirty-Five: Point of View**

Now:

The first thing Carth felt was pain; his head felt like a bantha was sitting on it. He hadn't drunken himself silly again, had he? Where was he? Where was his wife? She'd kill him for staying out late with Jordo. It was unbecoming of someone who'd just gotten accepted into the Republic Navy to celebrate by overindulging…

"Carth?" His thoughts were muddled; who was that talking? The voice sounded distant… and female… almost musical. And she knew his name. Morgana? He felt a hand touch his cheek. "I'm here, Flyboy," the voice said again.

No, it wasn't Morgana. She never called him 'Flyboy'.

Carth slowly opened his eyes. Bright light blinded him; he quickly squeezed his eyes shut. His head felt like it was going to explode, and the bright lights only made it worse. He felt a hand rest on his forehead, and then slowly he felt the pain in his head subside. Carth's eyes opened slightly, then he winced again at the bright lights.

"Hey, Flyboy," he heard. His eyes opened again and focused on her. She gently brushed her fingers over his brow. She was… beautiful. And she looked so… familiar. Those eyes, that hair, that face. He was the luckiest cadet in the galaxy to wake up next to someone so gorgeous smiling down at him. He stopped; that was blue diamond around her neck, wasn't it? What was this beautiful stranger doing wearing a Telosian blue diamond, and one of that size, too? That had to be a year's worth of credits just to afford it.

As the pain began to disappear, Carth's brain began to catch up. He wasn't a navy cadet, he was an officer… Commodore… right? And that woman, he knew her. He… loved her. She was evil—no, she was good. She had been evil, but… it was okay. She was good now. Her name… it rhymed when Morgana… Ana-something. The more he stared at her, the more everything started to come back to him.

"Liana?" he hoarsely whispered, his voice sounding dry and cracked, like a man who had spent weeks trapped in the Dune Sea with no water.

"It's me," she smiled. "I'm here. Everything's going to be okay." His eyes darted around the room; where was he? Liana was there, though. Everything would be okay. She always made sure he was okay. "Do you know where you are?" she asked.

Durasteel frames… red… orange… computers… medical beds… "Citadel Station," he whispered. "Med bay." He looked back at her, uncertainty in his eyes.

"Do you remember what happened?" she asked. He still looked at her with the same doubt; he didn't know what was going on.

Carth heard something beeping in the background; a computer, maybe. He was lost, even scared. He woke up thinking he had been out all night drinking, and now couldn't remember anything that would have put him in this current position.

"What happened?" he asked.

Her face fell. She looked… lost."A lot," she whispered.

"Tell me."

She sat down on the nearby chair, keeping her hand cupped against his cheek. "What's the last thing you remember?" Carth tried to think, but nothing was coming to him. "You came back to Citadel Station after leaving Korriban."

Korriban? The last time he was there was when they were looking for Dustil and the Star Map. But they found both… right? His brow wrinkled. "I don't… remember."

Liana continued. "You came back with—"

"CARTH!"

He jumped, then saw a blue Twi'lek—Mission running towards the bed. What was Mission doing on Citadel Station? The teenager held onto the bed's handrails and looked at Carth, her face glowing with excitement. "You're okay!" The teenager turned around and shouted, "ZAALBAR! CARTH'S OKAY!"

"Volume," Carth winced.

The Twi'lek turned back towards him and began rambling, her words growing closer and closer together. "How are you feeling? Is everything okay? Do you remember what happened? You'vebeenoutcoldforacoupledayseversince—"

Liana placed her hand over Mission's mouth. She looked at the teenager. "Breathe."

She nodded, and Liana released her hand. "How are you feeling?" Mission asked, attempting to calm down.

"Head hurts," he whispered.

"But everything else—What's that beeping?" Mission asked. She looked over at the computer. "His kolto drip's dry, and he needs another one."

"I know," Liana said.

"Shouldn't you go get the medical droid to change it?"

"How about you go find the medical droid to change it?"

"But I want to see—" Mission stopped. "Oh. Yeah. I'll be right back." She turned and ran out of the room, colliding with Zaalbar. "Oof! Sorry, Big Z!" she said. "C'mon!" She grabbed the Wookiee's paw and dragged him down the hall.

"What happened?" Carth whispered.

Liana smiled. "Your personal nurse is on her way to find the medical droid."

He blindly reached to grasp her hand, found it, then held it tight, lacing his fingers through hers. He wasn't asking about Mission; he wanted to know what was going on. "Tell me," he said, looking into Liana's beautiful, bright eyes.

But those eyes he loved so much looked dull and sad. "You should rest some first. When you're feeling stronger—"

He cut her off. "Tell me now."

* * *

Nal tried to sink lower in his seat on board the station shuttle. Everyone around him appeared to be talking about Commodore Onasi and what an unstoppable human tank he was. He was currently listening to a rather loud gentlemen tell the tale of how Commodore Onasi saved everyone from Lord Malak with a single blaster and flinty stare.

"I didn't hear anything about him being on the Star Forge," another man with a squeaky voice replied. "Where do you get your news from?"

"He was there at the final battle with Malak," the man Nal dubbed "Loud" said. "He shot the Sith himself. Holonews broke the story, remember?"

Nal rolled his eyes, knowing the truth of the situation thanks to Canderous. He checked his chrono and wondered how much longer it was going to take to get to 089. Hopefully Dustil hadn't moved on.

"Onasi's the only man in the galaxy who coulda shot Malak dead," Loud continued. "Better off dead, I say. Malak wasn't that great a Sith, anyway. Revan, on the other hand. Now he was a Sith."

Another man piped up, "I heard Revan was on the Star Forge when Malak died."

"Revan's dead," Loud dismissed. "He died a long time ago. Malak killed him. Then Onasi killed Malak. Shoulda made him an admiral for what he'd done."

"But didn't the Jedi say Revan had been redeemed?"

Loud snorted. "That's just bantha fodder. They're trying to distract everyone from the real hero. Have you seen Revan being paraded around? No! No one's seen him. No one even knows what he looks like. Damn Jedi Council, stealin' away the real hero's spotlight! They should make Onasi an honorary master since he did their work for 'em! Instead they twist the facts so yet again the Jedi come across as saviors. Damn Jedi weren't there when Telos got blown up. So what happens when a Telosian does their job for 'em? They take away his spotlight!"

Nal had a headache. He leaned forward and cradled his head in his hands. _Just a few more minutes_, he thought._ That's all I have to do is last a few more minutes. Then these people will be gone._

"What do you think, Spacer?"

Nal felt a hand slap him on the back. He let out a soft "Ow!" then turned to see Loud looking at him. "About what?" he cringed. Why was he being dragged into the conversation?

"About our commodore being a hero?"

Nal raised an eyebrow. Well, as long as he was being dragged into the conversation, he decided he might as well have some fun. "I think you're all wrong, actually. Revan's a woman. She single-handedly killed Malak and gained redemption for her past. Now she's living under a different name and no one's the wiser."

Loud raised an eyebrow. "Revan was a man."

"Don't tell her that."

The shuttle car began to slow down as Residential Module 089 came into view. Nal began a silent countdown of how long it would be before he escaped the conversation he didn't want to be a part of in the first place.

"Look," Loud snapped. "No woman could possibly do the things Revan did. Ain't part of their nature." He snorted and turned to Squeaky. "I just think this spacer's got a thing against our war hero." He looked back at Nal. "What bantha you got up your ass about Onasi?"

Nal shrugged. "Good hair, great looks, hot chick on his arm. What's not to be jealous of?"

"And our hero has earned it," Loud said with a confident nod. "Not like he needs her, though. Hero like that doesn't need anything distracting him."

"Hey, they say that girl he's married to is a Jedi!" Squeaky said.

"Onasi ain't married," Loud dismissed. "Even if he was, and even if it was to that Jedi chick, Onasi can take care of her. Maybe it was his reward for killing Malak. It's a story out of those holoromances my wife reads. He'll drop her soon enough, though. Probably fun for a fling, then move on. Bet he's got a list of woman he's been through, too. Love 'em and leave 'em, that's what I always say."

"But aren't Jedi not supposed to love, or something?"

"Any Jedi would gladly break the rules to be in Onasi's bed," Loud answered. "She should be counting her lucky stars she snagged him. Any woman in the galaxy would kill to switch places with her. Got a man like that takin' care of you. Hell, I wouldn't mind that, either."

Nal couldn't help but be grateful that Revan was safely back at the Med Center and not present for this wonderful conversation. Visions of Loud being Force choked, thrown against the shuttle's wall, even self-combusting filled Nal's mind. Come to think of it, he was also grateful Canderous and HK weren't around for different yet equally as entertaining reasons.

The shuttle came to a stop and the door opened revealing the platform leading to Residential Module 089. Nal couldn't leave the car fast enough.


	36. Identified

**Chapter Thirty-Six: Identified**

Now:

Nal tried to walk casually as he made his way to the main corridor of Residential Module 089. He had a pretty good idea what Dustil looked like at this point, but it was a matter of finding him in the heavily-populated module. All he needed was a visual confirmation; Canderous and Liana could take it from there.

As Nal turned the corner towards 089's atrium, he stopped. The atrium was filled with benches and trees, plants and flowers, resembling a large indoor park. Fixtures splashed artificial sunlight down from the three-story ceiling. Judging from the ornately-decorated durasteel and the meticulously neat gardens, this module belonged to wealthy Telosians.

And apparently there were more wealthy Telosians than Nal had expected. Although the scenery was beautiful, the level of noise wasn't. Indoor parks should reflect serenity and peace, not a noisy academy cafeteria. Screaming children, yelling locals—the din was enough to make Nal's head hurt. How the hell was he going to find Dustil in this sea of people?

"Don't they have anything else better to do?" Nal muttered. Then he thought, _Well, if I were Dustil, this would be _the_ place to come to get lost._

People began pushing their way around Nal; it was apparent that standing in one place was hazardous to one's health as the smuggler was shoved incrementally closer to the wall. He pushed his way back, pulled out his commlink and looked for a nearby—preferably unoccupied—bench to sit on, then called Canderous.

"It's Simer," he said "I'm here in oh-eight-nine—"

"_I can't hear you. There's too much background noise."_

"Yeah, kinda why I'm calling," Nal said. He found an empty bench and sat down. "There's more people here than a Coruscant cantina."

He heard Canderous chuckle. _"Makes the game more fun."_

"If this is your idea of entertainment—"

"_We'll need a visual before we get Liana involved."_

Nal glanced all around him looking for a kid in a poncho. "Sure she can't just come here and, I dunno, feel him through the Force?"

"_She's got her hands full at the moment. Mission called. Our patient's awake. They're attempting to bring him up to speed on things."_

So the Commodore was awake? Nal supposed that good, but wasn't holding his breath until he heard just how well Carth handled the news of his son's attack and Liana's sudden reappearance. Nal switched back to the topic at hand. "What about HK's sensors?"

"_Answer: I have never seen the Sith meatbag in person, so an accurate visual confirmation will be impossible. But I have analyzed the little beeping trash compactor's recording of the confrontation between meatbag father and son. I can detect a ninety-nine point five percent accurate—"_

"Whatever," Nal interrupted. "As long as you're useful."

Canderous cut in. _"Don't insult the droid. It's been a while since he had some fun, and he's eager to kill."_

Nal coughed. "Duly noted."

"_We'll case the area,"_ Canderous continued. _"Stay put. Call me if you see him."_

"In case you see him before me, he's wearing a brown poncho with the hood up," Nal said.

"_Unless he trashed it."_

Nal hadn't thought of that. "True."

"_Keep lookin'. Canderous out."_

* * *

Dustil found a shadowy corner of Residential Module 089's atrium and sat. He was completely surrounded by Telosians, individuals who had lived through the same thing he did almost five years ago, Telosians who were busy pushing and shoving their way through the crowds as if there was nothing unusual about their surroundings. It was completely normal for the trees and plants of Telos IV to grow from giant durasteel boxes, synthetic sunlight illuminating the corridor, and streams of so-called water gently trickle over rock formations surrounded by transparisteel guards to keep curious children from falling in and drowning. _Completely normal,_ Dustil thought. _Absolutely._

Dustil watched as a young boy stood in front of an adult who Dustil assumed was the boy's father. The youngster extended his small, chubby hands above his head and bounced, indicating he wanted the man to carry him. With a reluctant sigh, the man bent over, scooped the boy up, and sat the child on his shoulders. The man held onto the boy's ankles as the boy grabbed the man's head, giggling. Off the two walked disappearing into the crowd. A lump formed in the back of Dustil's throat; he couldn't help but think about his own childhood while watching the father and son interact. He swallowed hard, then turned his attention elsewhere.

All Dustil could hear around him was the laughter of children, children who were either infants or not yet born when Telos was attacked, children who had been raised on Citadel, robbed of the beautiful fields and forests that had been transplanted to the cold metal station. None of the children around him knew what it was like that day, the day the sky fell and the people screamed in terror. Dustil had been safe at school when the attack came. He and his fellow students were told to stay where they were, to listen to their teachers, and calmly head to the basement of the schoolhouse where they would be safe. To this day Dustil couldn't explain it, but he knew the basement wasn't a safe place to hide—which turned out to be true. When the blast from a laser cannon struck close to the schoolhouse, Dustil used the opportunity of the distraction to make his escape. Minutes later the schoolhouse was struck; everyone inside had died. He had to run home to his mother. She'd know what to do; she'd keep him safe. She was the wife of a military man, after all. Father had taught her to defend herself, and Dustil knew that somewhere in the house Father had hidden a blaster pistol just in case.

But Dustil never made it to his mother's side. He'd always lived in the same neighborhood, knew it better than anyone, but in the confusion and panic of the attack, Dustil got turned around and somehow began heading in the opposite direction of his home. A couple wrong turns was all it took, and soon he found himself in the company of Sith. It was the last time he saw Telos.

He closed his eyes and focused on a mental picture of his mother, smiling and laughing. The last words she'd ever said to him were, "Don't forget your lunch!" It wasn't exactly the most memorable of final words a mother could say to her son, but it was what she had said, right before handing him his lunch bag and tousling his hair. It was a typical interaction between the two of them. Dustil supposed it was a better parting scene than hearing his mother screaming in pain or seeing her lifeless body on their living room floor.

But it would be even better if she had survived.

Memories of his mother were always followed by anger and hatred. When he'd been at the academy, times like these would be followed by throwing the nearest student against the wall or finding a prisoner to duel. But not here and not now; he was in hiding from TSF patrols and bounty hunters until he could find means of escaping the station. Dustil took several deep breaths and calmed himself down.

"Hey, you wouldn't mind sliding over to let a tired, old man have a seat, would you?"

Dustil looked up, the hood of his poncho obstructing some of his site. Before him stood a man clearly not Telosian. Tan pants, black shirt, red vest… not traditional Telosian attire at all. And tired old man? By the looks of his arm muscles and scars, the spacer was in the peak of health and enjoyed showing off his skills. At least his hair was gray indicating something was truthful about his statement. "Find another bench," Dustil said.

"Look, they're all taken," the spacer said, exasperated. "I got a bad knee that's—"

"So hobble to another bench before you fall over," Dustil sneered.

The man gritted his teeth. If the spacer wanted to press the issue, he was no match for Dustil. And if need be, he'd teach the man a lesson that brute strength was no match for the strength of the Force.

"I'll find another bench," the man spat, then hobbled off.

Where the man was headed was of no concern for Dustil. He went back to staring at the durasteel floor. He couldn't linger here for long; he had to keep moving. But without a station ID, he could only travel in the 080 modules. Otherwise he'd be on the other side of the station by now. He glanced up at the wall chrono. Three more hours until the Entertainment Module 086 shuttle arrived. Dustil knew there was a big pazaak parlor there to where he could win credits for dinner. Until then, it was sit, wait, and avoid patrols.

About ten feet away from Dustil stood the tired, old man with the bad knee. Casually staring at the teenaged Onasi, the man pulled out his commlink and pressed a button.

"It's Canderous. Visual on the Sith Spawn confirmed. Transmitting location. Hurry."

* * *

"…_Transmitting location. Hurry."_

"I'm on my way," Revan said. She pressed the tracking button on her commlink and tracked Canderous's signal. Now to get to 089 as soon as possible.

She and Mission had been sitting in Carth's room when Canderous paged. They were attempting to slowly bring Carth up to speed on what had happened as there were gaps in Carth's memory. The last thing the Commodore recalled was being on Citadel Station looking for Dustil; he couldn't remember departing for Korriban let alone finding his son there. Revan chose not to divulge everything until she was certain Carth could handle it. All she had told him was there had been an accident and Dustil had left. It was the truth, after all. It was also a convenient way of postponing the inevitable.

"They found Dustil?" Carth softly asked. Revan nodded. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to go get him and bring him back," she replied.

"What about TSF?" asked Mission. "They've got a warrant—"

"Which is null and void considering this is a Jedi matter," Revan said.

"Jedi matter?" Carth asked. The confusion on his face didn't go unnoticed. "What do the Jedi want with my son?"

Revan smiled. "Just a little white lie so your buddy Grenn doesn't throw Dustil in the brig."

Mission crossed her arms. "Not like the brig could hold Dustil, anyway. He'd just bust out and we'd be back to searching for him."

Revan had to admit Mission was right. "I'll be back," Revan said. She pointed a figure at Carth. "Stay out of trouble while I'm gone, all right?"

"Can't get into much," he mumbled. Revan smiled. Silently she gestured for Mission to keep an eye on him. The teenager nodded. As Revan turned to leave, Carth whispered her name. She turned around. "Whatever happened," he said, "Dustil didn't mean… he's a good kid…"

Revan stood silent, then nodded. "I know."

Carth closed his eyes. With a parting glance at Mission, Revan turned and left the room.


	37. Showdown

**Chapter Thirty-Seven: Showdown**

Now:

"Where is he?"

Nal looked up. "Nice to see you, too."

Liana rolled her eyes.

HK-47 approached. "Statement: The Mandalorian meatbag is on the north side of this atrium. He is posing as a sleeping, injured veteran to keep a closer eye on the whiny meatbag's offspring. Recommendation: Approaching from the south might be the best course of action, Master. I shall approach from the northwest—"

"Flank him," Liana interrupted. She looked at HK. "Remember, shoot to stun if need be. I want Dustil alive, not gravely wounded."

"Statement: Gravely wounded still implies the target is living."

"Dustil," she corrected. "Not 'target'." She turned to Simer. "Go casually meet up with Canderous. You two are my backup. If there's a scene, I don't want Dustil doing anything drastic in an attempt to settle a score."

"Settle a score?" Nal asked.

She ignored him. "HK and I will corner him. But you and Canderous be ready just the same."

"What about TSF?" Nal asked.

Liana smiled. "No need to tell them anything if everything goes smoothly."

"Does it normally?"

HK interjected: "Negative."

Liana turned to her droid. "Sometimes it does," she defended.

"Calculation: In the—"

"Don't bother," she muttered. "I don't need to know the odds."

With a casual salute and a smirk, Nal stood up and headed towards Canderous, making sure to take a long and twisting path towards the Mandalorian. If Dustil was observing him—not that Nal had any reason to believe that was the case—heading directly to Canderous wouldn't be a good idea. So around a few trees Nal walked, stopping every so often to briefly take in the sights. After a few turns, he passed by Canderous, nonchalantly gestured for him to follow, then continued walking. After Nal was a good distance away, Canderous stood up and strolled towards the smuggler. Nal filled the Mandalorian in on Liana's plan.

"Back up?" Canderous asked.

Nal shrugged. "It's what she said. Who am I to argue?"

"Rather just snag the _shivat_ and have it done with," Canderous said. "Give these people a real show."

"I didn't think Telosians were blood thirsty," said Nal.

Canderous snorted. "The contrary. They want a peaceful solution."

"Despite everything he's done to their hero?"

"If he were Mandalorian, we'd beat him senseless for dishonoring his family."

"Family's everything to you guys, isn't it?" Nal asked. Canderous eyed him, confused at Nal's point. The smuggler shrugged. "Just what I hear."

Canderous didn't answer. "You go left, I'll go right. Keep your commlink open. Let's get this kid and go home."

* * *

Dustil leaned forward, his forearms resting on his thighs. An hour had passed since he first arrived at 089. So far only one person had bothered him. Kids passing by would stare at the strange hooded man, but would say nothing. If only they knew the station's most wanted man was sitting in the open, if only they knew that…

Dustil blinked. He sensed something… someone… close… His Sith instincts were kicking in. Someone was looking for him… watching him… The person… the person was close by, projecting his presence in the Force, wanting to be found—

Alarmed, Dustil sat straight up. He wanted to jump to his feet, grab his lightsaber and fight whoever it was. But he didn't have his lightsaber, and leaping to attack would alert his hunter. There were no Jedi on Citadel Station; the Council couldn't be bothered sending any Knights and Padawans to assist in the rebuilding process. A Sith, maybe? Someone from the Korriban Academy? No one had been allowed to board the station since the lockdown occurred. Who could—

Female. It was a female projecting herself through the Force.

_Well, that narrows it down a bit_, Dustil thought.

One Force Sensitive female who was in this area—

Dustil looked to his left. He gasped. There she was, standing several feet away, in the middle of a crowd, looking right at him: Father's lady Jedi friend.

_What the hell is she doing here?_

Dustil calmly stood and pulled back his hood. He knew he'd been found; there was no sense in denying it. Even though she appeared to look like an average spacer, chances were she was armed. And she must have come alone; it was the Jedi way as he understood it. But which one of them would make the first move?

* * *

Revan watched Dustil stand and stare her down like a menace. She thought back to Ludo Kressh's tomb, the illusions that created the conflict between Dustil and herself. She'd been over the incident numerous times in her mind, but standing face to face with Dustil… would she have done things differently if she had known back then it wasn't an illusion? Of course she would have, she told herself.

_But instead I left. Then Dustil tried to kill Carth._

The weight of her concealed lightsabers grew heavy, the Sith in her wanting to finish what she started on Korriban, to make Dustil pay for what he had done to his father.

Carth's parting words echoed in her mind: _"Whatever happened, Dustil didn't mean… he's a good kid…"_

_I know_, _Flyboy,_ she thought, letting her anger subside. _There is no emotion, there is peace…_

Dustil casually strolled towards her. She didn't move. "I'm surprised you came for me yourself," Dustil said as he walked towards her. His tone was calm, light, as if two friends were meeting up. People around them continue to move about and talk, not noticing the two Force wielders staring each other down. "You and Father reconciled so soon?"

Revan said nothing.

Dustil continued. "Not so much then? Or maybe you haven't told him what you did to me?"

"You did enough for the both of us," Revan replied. She read his moves like a holozine. He was approaching, smooth and sophisticated, like all Sith acolytes were taught. Once they felt their enemy was at ease, they went in for the kill. Revan played along. Carefully and slowly, she used the Force to unzip her vest pockets just in case the confrontation turned sour. She didn't know if Dustil was armed; that part he kept concealed as his training demanded. But she knew each acolyte was taught to expect the enemy to have weapons. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, tucking her hands just underneath her breasts, yet kept her hands free to make it easier for the lightsabers to fly from her pockets. The pose looked non-threatening, as if she wasn't expecting Dustil to strike. Hopefully Dustil hadn't mastered reading his enemies.

"So how is Father?" Dustil asked, moving closer. People continued to walk past, not caring they were walking through a conversation. Revan wished the citizens of Citadel would steer clear of them, but the busy traffic meant no one was paying them any mind, that no one knew Dustil Onasi was so close.

"He's alive," Revan answered.

Dustil smiled and shoved his hands in his pockets. "So I'm to assume you're here to take me in? Hand me over to TSF for punishment?" he asked, keeping the conversation casual. "Because you do realize those cells of theirs can't hold me. So there's really no point to this then, is there?"

Revan continued to say nothing.

"Silent treatment all of a sudden," Dustil said. "I see, I see." He nodded approvingly. He began walking backwards.

Her left hand brushed past the concealed lightsaber in her right-hand pocket. She touched the end of her weapon, wondering if Dustil was going to do something drastic in an attempt to escape.

_Don't fight him_, she told herself sharply.

"Come with me," Revan said, dropping her hands to her side, resisting temptation to engage in another battle. "I can help you."

"Like you helped my friends back at the academy?" he retorted. "I don't think so, Jedi."

"I can't change the past," she replied. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well, I'm sorry, too." He stared her down. "Time I did something about it."

Suddenly Revan's lightsaber flew out of her pocket and into Dustil's hand—he must have seen it or knew what she was thinking. The citizens around them gasped in horror as Dustil ignited the cyan blade, then ran towards Revan.

* * *

Nal pulled out his blaster and aimed at Dustil. He was about to fire when Canderous screamed through the commlink not to. _"She's fine!"_ the Mandalorian insisted.

Nal looked on in alarm as Commodore Onasi's son raced towards Liana, the glowing blade raised over his head, ready to strike—

Then suddenly Dustil was frozen mid-air in place. Nal blinked. "What the…" He looked his partner and saw her standing there, calmly, her left hand extended in front of her. Nal's shoulders dropped in relief and he re-holstered his weapon.

Suddenly someone grabbed Nal's arm and pulled him backwards. "Hey, what—"

The barrel end of a blaster pressed underneath his jaw.

* * *

Revan held Dustil in place with the Force, the on-lookers amazed that a seemingly normal spacer was a Force wielder in disguise. Dustil could only move his eyes. His thoughts betrayed him; Dustil had expected another lightsaber battle and had been caught off guard by the sudden freeze.

She turned her left hand palm-up. Her lightsaber escaped Dustil's grip, turned off, then gently landed on her palm. She enclosed the lightsaber's hilt within her fingers, then placed the weapon back in her pocket. She smiled mockingly. "Now, are we ready to have a civilized discussion?" Dustil blinked a few times as he continued to broadcast surprise and anger through the Force. Revan smiled. "I'm prepared to stand here like this as long as necessary."

Telosians continued to stare and whisper, many people figuring out it was Dustil being held in place by Jedi Liana Suul, the maybe/maybe not lover of their beloved Carth Onasi. Revan could sense the thoughts and feelings of the numerous on-lookers, and it was making her rather uncomfortable.

Revan sensed Canderous approaching. "Nothing to see here, people!" he announced, heading towards her. "Just keep on walkin'." He gestured for people to leave, but not everyone listened, their thoughts curious as to what Jedi Suul's next move would be.

Canderous stepped behind Revan. "How long you going to keep this up?" he asked, his voice a whisper.

She turned her attention back to Dustil. "Until he promises to behave," she replied, her voice as equally quiet. "So what are you doing here?"

"Simer's commlink went dead," he whispered. "HK's on it."

"Playing bodyguard?"

"Figure it's best to be close when the blaster bolts fly."

Revan smiled. She turned her attention back to Dustil. "Now, if I let you go, are you going to try and strike me again?" Dustil projected annoyance and defeat. With a flick of her wrist, Dustil fell to the floor.

Whispering enhanced as Dustil stood up and attempted to act dignified. Suddenly an on-looker screamed, followed by the sound of a repeating blaster discharging. Revan gasped as she felt emotions of anger and hate, and the presence of several people with ill intensions pushing their way through the crowd. "Nal," she whispered.

A man about the size of Canderous appeared, his hand clenched tight around Nal's upper-right arm, a blaster pressed against his jaw. Nal looked beaten, but she didn't sense fear from the smuggler—just aggravation.

"Drop your weapon, spacer!" the man holding Nal ordered. Revan heard the sound of Canderous's blaster hitting the metal floor. "You, too, Jedi! Take that lasersword out of your pocket!" Revan complied, placing only the one saber—the one Dustil snagged from her pocket—on the ground.

"HK," Canderous whispered. The droid was still hiding in the crowd—as best as a 1.8 meter tall copper protocol droid wielding a stun rifle could. But there were too many thugs encircling them with blasters drawn—Revan counted five men she could see and could sense two men behind her, with the possibility of others lurking in the shadows. She knew HK was good, but was he _that_ good?

From her right she heard the sound of one man clapping his hands slow and sarcastic. "Well, well, we meet again," the man said. Revan felt Canderous's anger as the man looked at him then drew his blaster and aimed at the Mandalorian. "Where's your blue friend?" Was this the man that approached Mission in the cantina? Canderous didn't reply verbally; he just stared the man down. "Doesn't matter," the man said. "I see you got yourself another girl—older, curvier, better lookin'. Got yourself good taste there."

Canderous clenched his fist and snarled.

Assuming the man who spoke to Canderous was the group's leader, Revan addressed him. "What do you want?"

The leader smiled. "I want to thank you and your friend for tracking down our bounty. Now, if you don't mind, we'll take him off your hands. The Exchange pays a fair amount for an ex-Sith."

Revan snorted. "I know. Why do you think I tracked him down?" She felt Dustil's attention snapped back to her.

"You did my work for me," he grinned. "We'll take him off your hands now. Maybe give you a cut of the reward."

"Try again," she replied. "Dustil's under my protection now. You want him? You've got to go through me."

Blaster fire suddenly rang through the air. Telosians screamed and ducked for cover as HK-47 made his presence known. He stood diagonal to Dustil, his stun rifle aimed at the nearest thug. "Threat: Leave Master and her companions alone or it will be your meatbag bodies I blast next!"

Revan smiled. "You've also got to go through the droid."

Dryly and dramatically the leader replied, "I'm oh so terrified of the big, bad protocol droid." He pulled the trigger on his blaster.

Revan felt the pain through the Force before she heard Canderous cry out. The crowd of Telosians gasped as the Mandalorian fell to the ground. Her instinct was to kneel and check Canderous's wound, but she remained stoic as if nothing had happened. Canderous was alive, and she reminded herself that his implant would keep him stabilized. This was the same man who faked his death before the _Ebon Hawk_ was boarded by Saul Karath's men. If Canderous could survive a grenade blast to the face, then Canderous could survive blaster wound.

The bounty hunter had just pulled an audible, and Revan was forced to re-think her HK-47 advantage. Even though the droid was carrying a stun rifle, there might not be enough time to shoot the thugs, heal Canderous, then get the hell out of Residential Module 089. Plus there was a growing crowd of onlookers who all knew Jedi Suul was attempting to apprehend Dustil Onasi peacefully—a growing crowd that was doing nothing to help, just staring in awe at the real-life holodrama, no doubt recording the scene with private holocameras. Nothing like word getting out that Commodore Onasi's girl kept company with a Mandalorian and a Hunter-Killer droid. But there were always alternatives to fighting, alternatives that were better than death, alternatives that would get everyone out in one piece and give the Telosians the drama and excitement they desired.

HK, however, desired blood. "Threat: Say goodbye to your—"

"Stand down!" Revan quickly ordered. She repeated the Jedi Code to calm her mind, reminded herself the Telosians were watching with careful eye, then turned towards the leader. She had one shot at making this all go away peacefully.

Revan casually dropped her hands to her sides. She closed her eyes as if she were bowing to defeat. When she felt the men fall for the act, her eyes snapped open and both of her lightsabers—the one on the floor and the one in her pocket—flew to her hands. In one swift movement, the blades ignited, the sabers spun, and her arms were crossed in front of her at the elbows, her purple right-handed blade pointed to her left, her cyan left-handed blade pointed to her right. She felt alarm from the band of spacers, most of all from the leader who initiated the assault and had shot Canderous. She inched her cyan blade closer to the leader's throat as the crowd of Telosians watched.

"See the pretty blade?" Revan sweetly asked. "The last person this lightsaber killed was Darth Malak." She tilted the blade up slightly, the hair on the man's beard crackling from the heat. "Want to wager on how well you'll favor against it?"

The man's eyes grew wide—as did Dustil's; she could feel the teenager's surprise in her words and actions.

The man tried to act brave. "Jedi… Don't kill…"

"I'm not exactly your conventional Jedi."

Canderous lay on the metal floor, grunting in frustration and pain at a wound that shouldn't have happened. Mandalorians were trained not to show weakness, so if Canderous was acknowledging the injury, it was more than his implant could handle. Time was running out.

"Retreat or death?" Revan posed to the leader.

"Stand down, men," the leader said, his voice wavering.

She smiled as the men did as their leader asked. Nal tugged his arm free, then glared as his attacker. "Yeah, that's why I'm on her side," the smuggler said. He headed for Canderous and knelt down beside him. "You okay?"

Canderous grunted.

Revan's lightsabers remained active and pointed as she looked the leader in the eye. "Now, turn around, walk away, and never approach us again."

"Men, we're going to turn around, walk away, and never approach them again," the leader repeated.

Revan lowered her blades. "Good boy." The gang slowly walked away, spitting curses at their leader's decision.

Quickly she turned the lightsabers off, pocketed them, then knelt down to Canderous's side. He held his side with his right hand; Revan could see blood stains on his shirt. Canderous gritted his teeth as she attempted to ascertain the extent of his injury.

"Move your hand," Revan said. When Canderous didn't comply, she snapped, "Move it!" He reluctantly moved his hand to the side. In the background she heard HK's metal feet clunk against the ground in an apparent sprint to his Master's side.

Nal winced at the sight of Canderous's wound. "Got you good."

Revan ripped part of his shirt to inspect the wound. Canderous flinched, then angrily moaned through his clenched jaw as her finger accidentally brushed over the injury. "I'm fine," Canderous insisted, his words forced.

Canderous wasn't fine, but Revan respected his honor enough not to say anything. She placed the palms of her hands on his chest. "Don't move." Revan closed her eyes and reached out the Force.

Nal was confused. "I thought you couldn't heal—"

"Quiet!" Revan snapped. Through the Force she felt Canderous's pain, then the source of the injury. She thought back to all her instructions from Jolee Bindo, all the lessons he tried to teach her. She'd healed Carth's blaster wounds after he was shot on the Star Forge. She could do this.

While she concentrated, she heard HK yelling at the crowd of people surrounding them. "Statement: Move it, meatsacks! Master does not require an audience!"

"Leave 'em alone," she heard Nal say. HK must have glared as Nal quickly added, "Uh, please?"

Canderous's injury was worse than she originally thought, and she didn't know if she had the proper training; Jolee had only taught her so much. Canderous' implant was helping, but not enough. With little choice, Revan used the Force to speed up his implant's healing ability to what she hoped was a safe pace while she did her best to regenerate his cells to heal the wound. She called on all her strength, all her Force knowledge. Eventually she heard Nal and Dustil gasp as Canderous's wound began to shrink in size then disappear, the blood stains on his shirt serving as the only evidence he'd been injured.

Revan, almost drained of energy, sat back on her heels as Canderous sat up and inspected the injured area himself. "Not bad," he said as if Revan had slapped a gauze wrap on him. "Thought you couldn't do that?"

She shook her head remembering their argument from days before when Canderous insisted she use the Force to heal Carth. "Minor wounds," she answered softly.

He wiped the blood off his hand and onto his slacks, then stood up. On-lookers gasped, whispered, pointed, then began to clap. Canderous ignored the spectators as he looked down at Revan and Nal. "What are you two doin' on the floor?"

TSF officers began pushing their way through the crowd. "All right, people, break it up, break it up!" one young officer said. "Nothing to see!"

Revan shook her head, then looked to see Dustil extending a hand to help her. There were no ill intentions behind the gesture, and Revan accepted the help. She stood and thanked the teenager. A wave of dizziness overcame her, and she almost fell if it wasn't for Canderous placing a hand on the small her back to keep her steady.

A TSF lieutenant approached. "You must be Miss Suul," he said. "I'm—"

HK sneered. "Correction: Master's appropriate title—"

"Jedi Suul," Revan jumped in. "The situation is under control, lieutenant." She leaned back slightly on Canderous for support; she'd drained herself more than she'd thought.

The lieutenant nodded. "I'm under orders to take Dustil Onasi into custody."

HK clamped a metal hand on Dustil's shoulder. The teenager jumped, then cringed. "Query: Shall I escort the whiny meatbag's offspring to a TSF holding cell?"

"Whiny meatbag offspring?" Dustil asked.

"He's coming back with us," Revan said. "This is a Jedi matter; Dustil's under my protection. I've already explained that to Lieutenant Grenn."

"Yes, but Jedi Suul, my orders—"

"And my orders come directly from the Jedi Council," Revan firmly stated. "Feel free to call Master Vrook Lamarr for confirmation."

The lieutenant backed down with a nod.

Revan turned to her group. "Let's go."

"Query," HK asked. "Am I still allowed to stun the target should he attempt to break free?"

"Yes," she answered, immediately sensing panic from Dustil. She looked at Canderous, her voice lowered to a whisper. "You and HK take Dustil back to the apartment. I'm gonna go check on Carth, then meet you two there." Revan turned back to Dustil. "You try anything funny, I revoke my protection and hand you over to the highest bidder. Got it?"

"Why?" Dustil asked. Revan was confused. "Why aren't you handing me over to TSF?"

"Because the way I see it, you've got two choices," Revan said. "One, you deal with TSF and are subject to their laws and face their consequences for your actions against your father or two, you deal with me and the Jedi Council."

Dustil's voice was laced with fear. "Deal with the Jedi Council?"

Revan shook her head. Dustil wasn't as tough as he lead on, it appeared. His fear was being broadcasted so strongly she was sure every Jedi within seven light years could sense it. But what specifically was he afraid of? That she bested him so easily? That he now knew she was the one who killed Darth Malak? Wait until he discovered who she was in a former life. "Go back to your father's apartment with HK and Canderous. I'll be there soon and will explain everything then." She glared. "And don't try anything." Dustil nodded then walked off with HK.

"Explain everything?" Canderous asked when Dustil was out of earshot.

"From certain point of view," Revan answered.

He shrugged. "Your choice," he said, then headed off after the teenager and the droid.


	38. Choices

**Chapter Thirty-Eight: Choices**

Now:

When Revan entered Carth's medbay room, she was shocked to find him sitting up, hunched over slightly with his fingers laced together resting on his lap. When she had left four hours ago, he was talking in barely-there whispers. Had the kolto worked that quickly? And where was Mission? She hadn't seen the teenager in the waiting room where Nal was now sitting, and she hadn't been in Carth's room. Neither had T3-M4, now that she thought of it.

Carth knew Revan was there, but he didn't acknowledge her. Similar feelings from when she first met him on Taris had surfaced in Carth: Betrayal, anguish, pain. She hadn't felt those from Carth in a long time. What had happened in the last four hours?

Revan walked up next to his bed and sat down. "Hey," she said, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. "What are you doing up?"

Carth didn't reply, but continued to stare downward at his hands. While Revan could feel his emotions, she didn't want to read his mind. "Carth?" she asked.

She watched as he closed his eyes, his brow wrinkling. "Why did you come back?" Carth whispered, pain laced in his voice. "I told you I never wanted to see you again."

Revan felt like she'd just been smacked across the face. She removed her hand from his shoulder. She hadn't told him the details of finding Dustil on Korriban—no one knew besides Canderous. So how…

Had he remembered? Had he pressed Mission to give him details of Korriban and the incident on Citadel Station? However he found out, he knew what had transpired between the two of them; she could sense his thoughts lingering on their screaming match in the tomb. Revan hesitated, wondering if Carth simply wanted her to leave now that he remembered everything, or if it was truly a question he wanted an answer to. If it was an honest question, then somehow 'Canderous made me' wasn't a good enough answer. Revan wanted to tell the truth, but not the _Truth_. "T3 recorded your argument with Dustil and forwarded the vid. I saw… everything." Carth winced at the mention of the event that placed him in doctor's care, but Revan wasn't sure what he was specifically reacting to. The physical pain he was in? Coming face to face with Dustil's anger? His thoughts were too muddled to read.

For the longest while, he said nothing in return. "I'll leave you be," Revan whispered, her voice wavering even though she'd tried to keep her tone even. She loved Carth, and under any other circumstances would fight to keep him, and would do so once the time was right. But maybe for now, as painful as it was, it was best to leave him alone.

She stood from the bed to exit the room, but Carth's hand firmly grabbed her arm, stopping her from going any further. She looked back at him. His expression was one of hurt and exhaustion. He stared back at her for a moment before shaking his head and breaking eye contact. He let go of her arm, and Revan sat back down. "Talk to me," she calmly said.

His voice lowered to a whisper. "You don't understand," he said, his voice cracking.

She sat down again. "Then help me to."

Carth closed his eyes. He was silent for a moment; Revan could sense him trying to find the words. "I can't believe you came back… after everything I said to you… I just…" He paused, then squeezed his eyes shut. "I was wrong," he hoarsely whispered. "You were… right about Dustil." The pain in his voice was agonizing to hear. "I overreacted and, and didn't…" He paused again. "I'm sorry."

Revan blinked. Did Carth just tell her she'd been right about Dustil being a Sith? She was too stunned to say anything. Carth looked uneasy; it took a lot for him to state his actions were wrong back on Korriban. Revan's instinct was to start rambling 'I'm sorry' to make him feel better, but what specifically was she apologizing for? Honestly believing Dustil was a vision?

"You have nothing to apologize for," Revan carefully said. "You were defending your son. You've told me before you'd do anything for him."

"But I should have asked you before… before I…"

"Don't do this to yourself," she said. "We were both wrong, Flyboy. Please don't think you're the only guilty party."

"I shouldn't've said to you… I should've—"

"I know," Revan interjected, "and I know you feel horrible about it now. But please stop." She brushed her fingers across his temple and down his jaw. "Everyone was wrong. You, me, Dustil. And I love you too much to watch you beat yourself up over this."

"But I didn't listen to you!" Carth angrily said. Those were Dustil's words. Dustil yelled at his father for not listening, for assuming he had all the answers when he walked in on the battle. Although Dustil was correct, Revan thought, she hadn't exactly attempted to correct Carth. Instead she had bolted for the exit.

"Didn't listen to me when I said what?" Revan carefully asked. "Not to go into the tomb? That Dustil was dangerous?" Carth shivered and said nothing. She took a deep breath, then cautiously explained. "That tomb was filled with darkness, so much so that it can cause hallucinations. That's why I didn't want you going in there in the first place." She closed her eyes and scolded herself for bring up an 'I told you so' even though that wasn't her intent. She paused, then decided it was time for Carth to hear the truth from her point of view. "I thought Dustil was an illusion."

Revan opened her eyes and saw Carth looking at her. "What?" he asked. She hesitated, then told her side of the story, everything she had told Canderous, including how she thought Carth was an illusion, too.

"You really didn't know?" he asked. His tone was purely inquisitive.

"I've never lied to you, Carth," she whispered. "It wasn't until you ran to Dustil that I knew…"

He turned away. "And me yelling at you didn't help matters much."

She felt his guilt return. "Oh Carth, please," she said. "You have nothing—"

"Mission said I made you leave," he whispered. "She was so adamant about it."

"And you believe everything a fourteen-year-old says?"

"When she's right." He sighed heavily. "I could have done something to stop this. I should have listened. I should have—"

"Listened to what?" Revan asked, partly in confusion. "Carth, you keep repeating that you should have listened. Do you really think you would have been able to handle right then and there that I thought it was all a trick brought on by the Dark Side? Do you really think you would have stopped being angry and forgiven me on the spot? Carth, you acted like a parent, like a father. You had every right to protect you son, even if you didn't fully understand what happened. As Dustil's father, you did the right thing. Never second guess or doubt your action in the tomb."

"But the words I said to you—"

"Carth, you're upset that you didn't listen to me _then_, but you're not listening to me _now_," Revan snapped. "You're always taking responsibility for things beyond your control. You couldn't control the visions, nor could you control Dustil, just like you couldn't control what happened to Telos. You did nothing wrong! You're so used to being in command, but you also have to realize that sometimes there are things you—" She stopped, realizing she was repeating the same words that Canderous shouted at her days before. "—can't control," she softly finished. Revan looked away, her thoughts lingering on her last sentence. Damn Canderous for being right.

"Next you're going to tell me things beyond my control aren't worth lingering over," Carth sighed. "And that I shouldn't dwell in the past and should focus on the here and now, paying attention to what I can control and acknowledging what I can't."

She looked at him.

Carth resumed staring at his hands. "Ana used to tell me that all the time."

_His wife_, Revan thought.

"It's scary," he continued. "You used the same exact words she used."

"Was she Mandalorian by chance?" Revan asked. He looked at her, almost shocked she had asked him that question. She smiled. "Canderous gave me this same speech a couple days ago."

"Over what?"

Revan was slightly embarrassed. "Over… what Dustil did to you," she mumbled. "I kept yelling at myself that I shouldn't've left. I should have been here when Dustil awoke. I could have prevented this." She stared down at the floor. "Now that I look back, there's so much more I could have done in the tomb, so many other ways I could have stopped Dustil. But in the heat of the moment, I… I couldn't think of anything else than what I did.

"My main concern was to protect you," she continued. "Whether I thought you were a vision didn't matter. I wasn't going to let Dustil kill you. I knew what he was capable of, and I did what I had to do to protect you. I never meant to hurt Dustil, let alone bring him so close to death. I tried to tell you he was dangerous in his current state, but…" Her voice trailed off.

"I didn't believe you," Carth finished. Revan stared down at the floor, her thoughts going back to that eventful day. She felt Carth's guilt surface again. "And then I told you to leave," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"We both made choices neither of us should have been forced to make," she said.

There was a long silence before Carth spoke. "I have to ask," he said, his tone turning serious. "If T3 hadn't…" He hesitated. "If you didn't see the argument, would you have come back?"

Revan tensed up. She had run away, attempting to start a new life. And she was pretty good at it, too. She'd lucked out with Nal, there was no denying that. But the smuggling life wasn't her. Could she do it? Sure. But for how long? Would she have eventually quit, cashing her credits in and getting an apartment on Corellia or a home in Naboo's lake country? What if she'd taken Canderous up on his offer and relocated to Dxun to help train the Mandalorians? What if Canderous had fallen for her misaimed advance?

"I don't know," she admitted, her voice a whisper. "I… I almost…" She forced herself to finish the sentence. "I almost didn't come this time. I didn't think you wanted me back. I…" _He needs to hear the truth_, she thought. "Canderous gave me no choice. He said he was going to drag me here if necessary. I kept telling him you wanted me to leave, and he kept telling me that the fight you and I had didn't matter anymore. It… It wasn't until I saw you all beaten and bruised that I realized he was right."

There was a pause before Carth said, "Sounds like Canderous has been right about a lot of things lately."

"It's a sign the Force is out of balance."

She heard Carth snort.

There was another long pause, this time the silence between them seeming to last forever. Revan finally spoke. "So where does this leave us?"

Carth exhaled. "We can't pretend nothing happened."

She waited, then said, "But we can move on." She waited again for him to say something. When he didn't, she looked at him and added, "We'll take it slow. Give us each a chance to, to… cope." Revan wasn't even sure if 'cope' was the correct word, but Carth didn't correct her. Instead he nodded in agreement, then went back to staring at his hands.

"We found Dustil," Revan continued. "Canderous and HK are keeping an eye on him back at your apartment." She hesitated for a moment before adding, "Dustil still needs you and your help. And I need you." She moved from sitting on the chair to sitting on the edge of his bed. Carefully she rested her hand on top of his. "Do you forgive me for my actions?"

His eyes met hers. "Do you forgive me for my words?"

"Do you forgive me for listening?"

Carth frowned. "I don't know," he said, shaking his head. Revan's heart sank.

Then he gave her a lop-sided grin. "You might have to work for it."

Revan blinked, not sure at first what Carth meant. Then she smiled. Almost a year ago, Carth had apologized for not trusting her and asked for her forgiveness. She defused the tension by replying that he'd have to work for it. When Carth asked what he'd have to do, she told him to kiss her. It was worth it then to see his face turn scarlet and watch him uncomfortably twitch. "What am I going to have to do?" she innocently asked, echoing his statement from a year ago.

Carth smiled and shook his head. He was silent for a few seconds, then whispered, "I'm glad you came back, Beautiful."

"Somebody's got to keep an eye on you, Flyboy." A few moments passed before Revan asked, "So, you feel well enough to move?"

"Move where?"

"Home," she said.

"Dustil's there with HK and Canderous, right?" he asked. Revan nodded. "Maybe I should just stay here. I'm not…" He hesitated.

"You're not ready to see him yet?" Revan carefully finished. Carth said nothing. "If it makes you feel any better, I think I've scared him straight for the time being."

Carth looked alarmed. "You told him you were Revan?"

She smiled. "Not exactly." She relayed the tale of Dustil's apprehension and the bounty hunter's ambush, including Canderous's injury and Dustil's reaction to Revan's resolution of the situation.

"So informing the bounty hunter that you were the one who killed Malak was enough to scare Dustil?" asked Carth after Revan finished telling the story.

"I think HK's presence helped some, too," she said. "But between my words and actions, both with getting rid of the thugs and healing Canderous… I believe Dustil realized he was well over his head." She stood up. "Get some rest. I'm going to head back and check to see how he's doing."

"What are you going to tell him about the Jedi Council?" Carth asked.

"I don't know yet," she said. "I still think it's in his best interest to see them and have them help—"

"No," Carth said. "The Sith screwed him up. I'm not having the Jedi do the same."

"The decision is Dustil's. And whatever he chooses, you must respect it. Otherwise the two of you are back where you started from. You two don't need your relationship strained anymore than it already is."

Carth took a deep breath. "I was hoping you wouldn't say that."

"Let me talk with him and see if I can find some peaceful resolution."

Carth was still concerned. "And if he asks you questions about you and your past?"

"Well," she said, "he has no reason to suspect I'm anyone other than Liana Suul, but I'll answer any question he asks. Okay?"

Carth nodded.

Revan waited, then asked, "So are we okay, Flyboy?"

He looked at her and nodded. "We're okay."


	39. From the Beginning

**Chapter Thirty-Nine: From the Beginning  
**

Now:

"So… You're her friend?" Dustil asked.

Canderous, seated at the far end of Carth and Revan's overly-decorated apartment—in his opinion, at least—with a blaster in one hand and a glass of juice in the other, nodded.

Dustil turned towards the side wall of the living area, paused to look at a painting hanging on the wall, then ran his finger mindlessly along the top of a side table, upon which sat two decorative vases with dying plants. No one had been around in a while to water them, their leaves wilting and barely hanging on. Dustil touched one of the leaves, and it fell off in his hand. "Friend of Father's, too?" he asked, leaving the table's side and slowly walking towards the transparisteel balcony. He turned to look at his babysitter as he walked.

Canderous mulled that question over, then answered with a shrug.

Dustil pointed at Canderous's left arm. "That's a Mandalorian Clan Tattoo, right?"

Canderous downed his juice.

Dustil pulled a corner of the balcony's curtain back and peered out into the blackness of space. "What's a Jedi doing hanging out with a Mandalorian?"

"What's a kid doing beating up his own father?" Canderous retorted.

"Kid?" Dustil asked, turned his head sharply towards the Mandalorian. "I'm seventeen years old. In your culture, you're an adult when you're thirteen."

"In yours," Canderous retorted, "you're a kid when you're seventeen."

Dustil said nothing.

Canderous didn't need to be a Jedi to sense Dustil's frustration and confusion. The teenager wandered around the living area of Carth and Revan's apartment, glancing at the artwork hanging on the walls, the plants dying in the corners, his every movement observed by HK-47. The assassination protocol droid kept his blaster rifle casually to his side, but Canderous knew from experience HK could draw his weapon faster than any Mandalore. The more Dustil wandered, the more he appeared uneasy. Canderous could sympathize; the surroundings made him uncomfortable, too. Part of it was the constant reminder of Telos, the planet that was, everywhere he looked. Paintings depicting life on Carth's home planet hung everywhere, even in the blasted refresher. Just what Canderous wanted to look at while he was taking a leak. He knew this was merely temporary quarters, that none of the furniture, artwork, or plants belonged to the Republic Commodore, but the atmosphere was a perfect example of overkill. The other part making the Mandalorian uncomfortable was he was on a Republic space station, and anything involving the Republic made him apprehensive.

The apartment fell silent again. HK continued staring at Dustil while Canderous continued to drink the contents of Carth's refrigerator. Dustil finally sat on a green sofa in the center of the room, looking rather bored. He picked up a decorative rock from the low table in front of him and turned it over in his hands, then looked at the Mandalorian again. "Can I ask you something?"

"Can I prevent you?"

Dustil wrinkled his nose. "How well do you know Liana? It's Liana, right?"

"It's Canderous."

"Not you, idiot."

"Interjection," HK said. "It is not wise to upset the Mandalorian, meatbag."

Dustil frowned. "Meatbag?"

Canderous held up a hand, stopping HK from continuing. "I know Liana well enough to know that if you get out of line, she'll whack you before you see it comin'." He refilled his glass then smiled. "You may have been training as a Sith for four years, but you ain't got nothing on her, kid."

"What's that suppose to mean?"

"That means a Jedi strong enough to kill Lord Malak isn't going to consider you a challenge."

Dustil took offense. "What, you think she means to fight me?"

"No, I think you mean to fight her."

"And what gave you that idea?"

"When you ripped a lightsaber from her pocket and went for the kill." Canderous leaned back in his chair. He'd seen his fair share of Mandalorian children ready to be warriors before their time. Most of those children would wind up dead. Canderous saw the same look in Dustil's eye, a youngling ready to fight a whole war by himself. Canderous didn't give a bantha's ass what Dustil did or what would end up happening to him, but he felt the kid deserved a warning before raising a lightsaber to a former Sith Lord, especially knowing what had occurred on Korriban between the two. "We've got a word for kids like you: G_e'verd._"

"And what's that mean?"

"Almost a warrior."

"Almost?"

"Remember the part where Liana bested you without batting an eyelash, got the bounty hunters to leave without shedding their blood, and saved my life without breaking a sweat?"

Dustil slumped into the sofa. Canderous drank.

Dustil sat in silence for a few moments, then asked, "So why do you hang around?"

"Why do you care?"

"Because my father has spent most of his military life fighting your people."

"And I've spent my entire life fighting the Republic," Canderous answered. "So what's your point?"

Before Dustil could answer, the door to the apartment opened. HK instantly aimed his rifle at the entrance, then lowered it when Revan and Nal stepped inside.

Revan walked across the room and stood near Canderous. She eyed his drink. "Having a good time, are we?"

Canderous gestured towards Dustil. "Kid's full of questions. Doesn't seem to like my answers, though."

Revan shook her head. "Keep him entertained for a few more minutes. I'm gonna hit the sanisteam and be right back."

"It's about time," Nal replied.

Revan turned and smiled. "I can hurt you." When Nal didn't reply, she headed down the hall towards the bedrooms.

Silence filled the living area. Nal wrinkled his nose, then turned to Canderous. "What'cha drinkin'?"

Canderous shrugged.

"You don't know what it is?" Nal took the glass from Canderous, raised it to his nose and took a sniff.

The Mandalorian tried to be helpful. "It's blue."

"Smells like…" Nal paused and took another sniff. "Smells like…"

"Blue?"

Nal shrugged and took a sip. "It's not too bad." He handed Canderous back the glass, then poured one for himself. He sat down on a stool next to the Mandalorian. "So… What have we been talking about?"

Dustil ignored the smuggler and went back to staring at his rock.

"How's Carth?" Canderous asked.

Nal shrugged. "She talked to him. I didn't. He's okay, I guess. How're things here?"

Canderous gestured towards Dustil. "Ask him yourself."

Dustil let out a snort, then put the rock down. He stood up and started pacing again, then turned to Nal. "So how do you fit in to all of this?"

"I really don't know," the smuggler replied. "Wrong place, wrong time." He looked at Canderous. "That sound about right?" The Mandalorian shrugged.

Dustil shoved his hands in his pockets and turned his back towards the older men.

Almost an hour later, Revan emerged from her bedroom. She entered the living area and found Dustil sitting on the sofa, Canderous and Nal still drinking their blue drinks. Nal looked over towards her, his eyes wide.

"Damn," he whispered.

Canderous just smiled. "Well, hell-_lo_ Jedi."

Revan rolled her eyes. The only clothing she had in her shared room with Carth were the impractical gowns and tunics she'd purchased several months prior in an effort to blend in with Telosian society—some purchased for Carth's eyes only. Had she known that one day she'd be wearing a tight-fitting silk dress in the presence of people other than her flyboy, she would have thought twice about her wardrobe. Unfortunately, her current ensemble—a blue silk embroidered floor-length dress, silver hip belt with her lightsabers clipped to the sides, and Carth's necklace—was the most modest outfit she owned that was clean. Her hair was pinned back in soft waves and she wore little make-up. Revan made a mental note that the first person to anger her off with comments—either sarcastic or sexual—would be doing her laundry.

She looked over at Dustil only to see the teenager staring back. Maybe he was expecting Jedi robes?

Canderous snorted. "Boy's eyes are stuck."

Dustil blinked, lowered his eyes, and shifted uncomfortably. "Sorry, it's just… my mother owned a dress like that."

Revan made a second mental note to burn the gown before Carth saw her in it.

"So," she said, changing the subject best she could, "you all getting along?"

"One big happy family," Nal smiled.

She nodded, then asked, "Can you both leave the room, please? I want to talk to Dustil alone." Nal and Canderous looked at each other, then stood up and left the room, while HK remained stationed by the front door.

Revan sat down on the sofa across from Dustil, wondering where in the universe to begin. Dustil's options were probably the best—

"What does the Jedi Council want with me?" Dustil asked.

Revan sighed. _Well, that works, too_. "Most of the things I said to TSF were to get you away from them."

"Are you making me join the Jedi?"

"I never said that," she replied. "Just… here me out." When Dustil nodded, she continued. "You are very talented in the Force. Why the Jedi didn't seek you out when you were younger, I don't know. Many powerful Jedi Knights and Jedi Scholars have come from Telos, so it baffles me that somehow you were overlooked. If I were a master on the Council, I'd tell you to join and wouldn't give you an option."

"So kind of you."

Revan smiled and continued. "You were taught to rely on your anger and pain to make you powerful and strong. But that's only one side of the Force."

Dustil raised an eyebrow. "You just said this wasn't a recruitment pitch."

"It's not," Revan said. "I'm laying out your options. It's your decision. Not mine, not your fathers."

"But you want me to join the Jedi."

"The Jedi Council and I have always been at odds because I don't agree entirely with their decisions and rules. But I will say that someone as talented as you are would benefit from their teachings. You have excellent lightsaber combat skills, and you know many powerful moves. I wouldn't want to see your talents go to waste."

"What about Father?" Dustil asked. "What does he think about your opinions?"

"Your father doesn't exactly agree with the Council's politics," she answered. "You know your father and I were on a mission to stop Lord Malak, correct?" Dustil nodded. "And I'm sure you know your father was on board the Star Forge when Malak died." Again, Dustil nodded. "Your father and I, along with Mission, Canderous, HK over there—" she gestured towards the droid "—and others were sent on that mission by the Jedi Council. We'd been together for a year, living in close quarters, traveling from planet to planet looking for clues to lead us to the Star Forge." Revan searched for a delicate, diplomatic way to discuss why Carth had an issue with the Council without revealing her true past. "It was during that journey that the Council's politics began to interfere with our working environment. Your father didn't agree with their orders, didn't like their decisions. Part of it roots back to the Mandalorian Wars when the Jedi abandoned the Republic. Part of it—"

Dustil interrupted. "Which side of the war were you on? Did you join Darth Revan?"

Revan did all she could to not laugh at the irony. "I was pro-war," she replied.

"That why you're at odds with the Council?"

"One of the reasons, yes," she dismissed. "But the main point is this: What your father thinks of the Jedi Council doesn't matter. What I think you should do with your talents doesn't matter. Ultimately the decision is yours. Do I think the Jedi could expand your knowledge and teach you to wield the light side? Yes. Do I think it's beneficial for you? Yes. But should you join because I say so? No. Should you decide not to join because your father doesn't like the Council? No. But what I want you to do is think about it. Obviously if you have any questions, I'll answer best I can."

Dustil nodded in acknowledgment. "I'll… I'll think about it." He looked back at her. "But I do have a lot of questions."

"What do you want to know?" she asked.

"If he doesn't like the Jedi, what… what was Father doing following orders from them?" Dustil asked. "And what's a Mandalorian hanging around for? And why does that droid call me a meatbag?"

Revan laughed. "To answer the second question first, your father and I both owe Canderous our lives several times over. Canderous helped us escape Taris right before Malak destroyed the planet, and he rescued us when we were taken prisoner aboard the_ Leviathan_."

Dustil looked alarmed. "Admiral Karath—"

"Took us prisoner," she finished. She swallowed hard. "The admiral…" Her voice wavered. "The admiral separated your father and me from our team. He wanted to know what mission the Jedi Council had sent us on. And whenever I refused to answer, he… he tortured your father while I was forced to watch."

"Is that why you and father are…" He hesitated "…so close?"

Revan nodded. Softly, she answered, "One of the reasons."

"Why was he on a mission for the Jedi in the first place?"

Revan sighed. "Okay, maybe we need to start from the beginning."

"Beginning?"

With a smile and a shake of her head, Revan leaned back on the sofa and told Dustil the details surrounding the journey to the Star Forge, careful to omit any references to her true past. In time she'd tell Dustil; she'd have to. But given recent events, now wasn't the time to reveal any of it.

* * *

With the Citadel Station lockdown over, spacers began leaving in droves while others waiting dock scrambled to find landing pads, arguing over which ship has arrived first. But two words were all it took for one individual to be moved to the front of the docking roster: Jedi Council.

The Jedi parked her small transport vessel as close to Residential Module 085 as possible. As her ship began powering down, she headed for her bunk to change out of her brown Jedi robes and into a traditional Telosian-looking garment she'd purchased back on Coruscant: a floor-length white skirt with a red and gold ribbon trim, and a matching sleeveless top with exposed midriff. She then unbraided her hair, brushed it reasonably straight, donned a red metal headband, and a pair of long gold earrings that barely touched her shoulders. She stood back and observed herself in the mirror. Deciding it was 'close enough', she placed her lightsaber inside a matching red and gold drawstring handbag, then headed towards the exit of her vessel. Before lowering the docking ramp, she took a deep breath and recited the Code to calm her mind.

If the Jedi Council discovered Bastila Shan was at Citadel Station, she would be in more trouble than Revan currently was.


	40. The Prudish Meatbag

**Chapter Forty: The Prudish Meatbag**

Now:

_Our top story this hour, Commodore Carth Onasi is set to be released from Medical Module oh-eight-seven tomorrow morning. Physicians say the commodore's condition has improved dramatically over the past few days, despite the kolto shortage. The commodore will recover at his home here on the Citadel until physicians indicate he is ready to return to active duty with the Republic military._

_As we showed you this afternoon, Commodore Onasi's son, Dustil, was apprehended in Residential Module oh-eight-nine by Jedi Liana Suul and her companions, thus lifting the TSF lockdown order on Citadel Station. As seen in this amateur recording, Jedi Suul and her companions were jumped by bounty hunters shortly after Dustil Onasi was located. Jedi Suul managed to defeat the bounty hunters, who were shortly afterwards arrested and detained by Telosian Security Force officers for carrying illegal weapons. Dustil Onasi is currently in Jedi Suul's protective custody._

_We here at Citadel Holonews would like to say that we're deeply grateful that Dustil Onasi has been found unharmed, and we wish him the best of luck with his recovery as he journeys to Coruscant to join the Jedi Order. May the Force be with him._

* * *

When Revan returned to the hospital, the first thing she heard was Mission trying to talk Carth out of something. It was the middle of the night; what were they both still doing awake? She sent calming thoughts through the Force, adjusted the strap on the bag slung over her left shoulder, then turned the corner and walked into his room.

"Good!" Mission declared. "You talk him outta it!" She huffed, crossed her arms and stood next to Revan.

Carth, seated on the bed, still in his hospital gown, legs dangling over the side of the mattress, shook his head. "She doesn't scare me."

Revan sighed. "Over half the galaxy thinks otherwise." She turned to Mission. "He wants—"

"—to go home now," the teenager finished. "Not tomorrow morning. Now."

Revan frowned. "When I was last here—"

"Yeah, well, he changed his mind," Mission said.

"I'm fine," Carth insisted.

"Plus," Mission continued, ignoring him, "he hasn't fully healed—"

"I'm fine," he said again, his tone annoyed.

Mission pointed to the knee brace on his bare right leg. "Walk," she said. "I dare you."

Carth muttered under his breath and didn't move from the bed.

Mission looked at Revan. "See?"

Revan signed. "Okay. You—" she pointed to the Twi'lek "—go play with Zaalbar. I'll have a word with your patient."

Mission smugly smiled at Carth then left the room.

Carth shook his head. "Whatever you have to say, Beautiful, you're wasting your breath. Mission's already told me."

"Then you're ready?"

Carth blinked and met her eyes. "Ready? For what?"

"Well, I was originally going to convince you to leave, but since you want to it's less work on my part. But if you've changed your mind a third time…"

Carth was confused. She tossed him the bag in her hand. He opened it. Inside were clothes and a pair of shoes. "I'm… actually leaving?"

"Unless you'd rather stay here and face the holonews tomorrow morning when they're outside filming your every move."

"I don't think I could take another minute of Mission the Nurse let alone a squad of reporters."

Revan smiled. "She cares about you, you know. Despite her attitude, she views you like a father."

Carth stared at the floor. "I'm not exactly a good role model," he whispered. Revan sensed regret and guilt from him, most likely directed at the way he'd been treating Mission before Dustil awoke. He owed the teen an apology—more than one, most likely. She sensed hesitation from him, as well, telling her he had no idea how to even broach the subject with the Twi'lek. Add Dustil to the mix…

Revan turned to close the door to his hospital room. "Here," she said as the door clicked shut. "Let me help you get dressed."

"I can manage," he said. He reached behind him to untie the gown, then winced in pain.

"All the medical advances in the universe," Revan said as she walked over to help, "and they still haven't made a better garment to replace this." She untied the flaps and helped Carth take it off. Carefully she helped him get dressed into loose-fitting pants and a tunic, a task that proved difficult due to his uncooperative muscles.

"And we're just going to waltz out the front door?" Carth asked, steadying himself by holding onto Revan's shoulders as she helped him put his boots on.

"There's a back entrance reserved for important people and high profile patients," Revan explained. "There's a shuttle waiting to bring you directly to your quarters. T3 will come with us. I'll have Mission and Zaalbar meet us there later."

"No front door then?"

"If we did, it would give the press what they want, which is exactly what I'm hoping to avoid."

Carth frowned. "That bad?"

"You have no idea."

"Let the media speculate."

"And continue to harass the Jedi Council for confirmation on our relationship?"

Carth paused. "Oh. _That_ bad."

Revan stood up. "Yup," she said, then reached to gather the bag she'd arrived with. "Can you walk?"

"I can barely stand in one place."

Revan smiled. She looped the bag handles through her left arm and hung it from her shoulder. "You'll be fine once you back to your place."

"Our place," Carth corrected, pain in his eyes.

Revan didn't hide her confusion. She felt pain and sorrow from Carth. Was he upset over her word choice?

Carth sighed. "I don't know how many times I have to tell you I'm sorry."

"And I don't know how many times I have to tell you there's nothing to be sorry about," Revan replied. "Everything is fine. We agreed to take it slow, remember?"

Carth gestured to her tight-fitting green tunic. "That's what you wear when you're taking our relationship slow?"

Revan adjusted the top of her tunic so not as much cleavage showed. "It's traditional Telosian design."

"It's alluring."

Normally she'd be flattered. "You were naked a minute ago. You didn't try to jump me then."

"Kolto hasn't kicked in. Hurts to move."

"Good answer."

Carth wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close into an embrace. What would have otherwise been a romantic gesture had him wincing in pain.

"You deserved that," Revan said. "Now, are you ready to stop this and head back?"

"I'm trying to apologize and be romantic here," he said. "Cut me some slack, sister."

Revan changed the topic. "Come on, let's get you back to Dustil."

That ruined Carth's mood. "Is… How is he?"

"Nervous."

"Just… nervous?"

"And annoyed that Canderous won't answer any of his questions."

"Questions about what?"

"Anything and everything," Revan said. "I told your son how we met—how most of us met, actually. How—"

"Did you tell him about us?" Carth asked.

"He already knew."

"What about… your past?"

Revan shook her head. "That's something we do together."

"How does he feel about you now?"

"Indifferent," she answered. "He doesn't like the fact you're with anyone let alone a Jedi. I think he's scared, too."

"Of Canderous?"

"Dustil didn't know I killed Malak," she explained.

Carth didn't reply. Revan sensed Carth's anxiety and fear. She wasn't sure specifically what he was nervous of, but her presence had made him feel more at ease. She wrapped an arm around his waist. "Come on. I'll help you hobble back. We'll see how the media spins this one."

"Spins?"

Revan adopted her best broadcasting voice. "Jedi Liana Suul was seen entering the medical module this evening but was not seen exiting. It's highly possible she is spending then night—"

"Let's just get home," Carth interrupted with an air of annoyance. Revan said nothing else.

After collecting T3, the trio walked towards the back exit of the medical bay. Revan signed Carth out, then they stumbled down the back hallway, T3-M4 wheeling ahead and making sure the hall was empty. They stopped every now and then for Carth to rest his tired muscles. Fortunately they didn't have to travel far. A private, unmarked shuttle, courtesy of Lieutenant Grenn, was waiting to take them directly home.

The shuttle dropped Carth and Revan off at the transparisteel balcony. Nal rushed over to help Carth climb out. Carth had no idea who Nal was, but accepted his help after Revan said she'd explain it all later. She guided Carth back to their bedroom then eased him down on their bed and slid his boots off. "Can I get you anything to eat?" she asked as she drew the blankets around him. "Real food, perhaps?"

"I'm fine."

"Get some rest, okay?"

"I'm not tired."

Revan shook her head. "Get some sleep. I'll be in the living area if you need anything."

Carth reached over and held her hand. "Stay a bit." He paused. "Please?"

Revan hesitated. "We agreed—"

"I just want you to stay."

Carth needed to know she wasn't going to leave; she could see it in his eyes. He was still trying to fully comprehend all that had happened, and one soul-searching conversation wasn't going to solve everything. Revan still believed they needed time, even though it had only been two weeks since they'd been to Korriban.

Carth was waiting. Revan was careful not to sigh in defeat, certain he would misinterpret her action. Instead she closed the bedroom door and turned off the lights, sending the room into darkness. It took a second for Revan's eyes to adjust as she made her way back to the bed. The lights of Citadel Station's exterior shown through the transparisteel windows as Revan made her way to Carth's side and sat down on the corner of the bed. She sensed his disappointment she wasn't laying next to him, but Revan still wasn't sure if it was healthy acting like nothing had happened.

"So," he whispered, reaching over and holding her hand, "who is that blonde guy?"

"My smuggling partner."

Carth paused. "I see. No. Wait. I don't."

Revan smiled. "His name is Nal Simer. He's a smuggler. Harmless, dumb, entertaining, scared of me, HK, Canderous—"

"Does he—"

"—know who I really am? Yes."

Carth hesitated, clearly not expecting that answer. "And?"

"He tried to kill me."

"He has terrible aim."

"I have an excellent Mandalorian body guard," she answered with a smile. Revan began relaying the tale of how she met Simer and their adventures with Wayt. She neglected to mention the kolto shipment was destined for Citadel, instead focusing on other details, like Canderous luring them to Tatooine. The story humored Carth, and he admitted to being jealous.

"Of what?" Revan asked.

"You and I never had pirating adventures."

"No, we just stole the _Ebon Hawk_ from a crime lord and smuggled gizkas across planetary borders."

Carth smiled. "Well, when you put it that way."

"Get some rest, Flyboy. I won't run away with Nal while you're sleeping."

"Good. Don't need Mission yelling at me again."

She shook her head. "Sleep. Jealous talk later."

Carth smiled. "Yes, Beautiful."

* * *

Revan stood outside on the transparisteel-enclosed balcony just off the living area. She'd been there for hours, it seemed, leaning against the railing and staring out at Telos IV. Her wavy hair cascaded down her shoulders, and every so often Revan would twist a random lock around her finger, continuing to stare at the planet below.

It was driving Canderous crazy.

He'd watched her since she emerged from her bedroom. At first he thought she couldn't sleep, but she'd been standing out there far too long for a case of restlessness. Plus she was still wearing the green tunic outfit from before; if she had tried to sleep, she'd at least be in a nightgown. It was close to morning and the others would be waking soon. If Canderous was going to talk to her and see what was up, now was the time.

Canderous got off a chair in the living area and headed out to the balcony. Revan didn't turn to look as he approached. He leaned against the railing next to her, lacing his fingers together in a similar stance.

"Can't sleep," she said without looking at him.

"I know," he replied. When she said nothing else, he asked, "How's Carth?"

"Sleeping."

There was another long pause. "Am I only going to get fragments out of you?"

Revan looked at him. "Since when were you one for small talk?"

Canderous shrugged. "Bored."

Revan smiled, then turned away again.

"How's Sith Junior doing?"

"He's not a threat," Revan said. "Right now, anyway."

"He didn't come out to greet his father when you two arrived."

"He didn't know I was taking Carth away from the hospital in the middle of the night," she said.

"No one knew, actually."

"It was impulsive," she said. "After that holonews broadcast… When they discover Carth's already home, they'll be camped outside our door."

Canderous snorted. "Just what we need."

"I've already made arrangements with TSF. They'll make sure the reporters keep a safe distance." She looked at Canderous. "We'll be heading to Coruscant soon. You can leave for Dxun whenever you want."

"As long as that kid is here, I'll be close at hand."

"Don't think I can handle him by myself?"

"I don't think he can handle you. Remember what happened when Nal found out."

Revan turned away. "Nal didn't do anything."

"Because he had to go through me to get to you."

Revan knew better than to question Canderous's loyalty. She made no comment about not needing protection or queries about his bodyguard appointment. He promised her that he was her man until the end, and after the incident with the bounty hunters, he owed her. Again.

"I never thanked you for saving my life," he said.

"It was a flesh wound, you were fine."

Revan was playing it off and Canderous appreciated the free pass. The blaster bolt had done some otherwise fatal damage, and she knew that, but respected his honor enough to keep silent. "We both know the truth," he said instead.

Revan looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "Mandalore admitting to weakness?"

"I trust you to keep this between us."

Revan smiled, then turned and looked back out at the view.

"It's curious, though," he continued. "You were able to fully heal me, but with Carth—"

"I sped up your implant's healing ability," Revan quickly answered. "It did most of the work."

Canderous waited for her to elaborate. When he realized she wasn't going to speak any more on the subject, he carefully asked, "So how are things with you and Carth?" His question was met with silence. He turned towards her in case she hadn't heard and was surprised to be met with a look of curiosity and confusion from Revan. "Since he's gotten back, you've been with us more than you've been with him," he explained.

"I didn't think the ins and outs of my relationship with Carth were of any interest to you."

"Everything that happens in this apartment affects us all. I need to know what I'm dealing with."

"A good warrior is always prepared?"

"Something like that."

Revan sighed and turned away. "I… I don't know where we stand right now." She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and said nothing else. Listening to Revan prattle on about Carth wasn't something Canderous enjoyed. But then again, he didn't need the Force to know something was wrong.

"Just remember Republic's got trust issues," Canderous said when she wouldn't elaborate. "And I'm sure this situation has stretched his trust as far as it'll go." With that, he turned and left the balcony, leaving Revan alone with her thoughts.

Canderous was no sooner inside the living area when he was jumped by Nal. "Is she okay?" he asked.

Canderous frowned. "What are you doing up at this hour?"

"You're stalling."

"Leave her alone," he said as he made his way towards the living area. As he walked, he heard sounds from the kitchen. A quick glance told him Mission and Zaalbar were awake, as well, and Canderous reasoned it was later in the morning than he thought.

"She really loves that guy, doesn't she?" Nal continued. He followed Canderous yet kept his eyes on Revan standing alone. Canderous said nothing. He waited for the smuggler to leave the room, but Nal was more interested in small talk. "So what's on the agenda for today?"

Before Canderous could reply with a witty comment, there was a ring at the door. HK-47 approached the entrance to the apartment and opened the door. A TSF officer jumped back in shock as the droid raised his rifle. He spoke in soft, panicked whispers to the droid who, in turn, looked towards Canderous.

"Statement: The prudish meatbag is here to see Master."

Canderous groaned as a familiar female voice called: "I am not prudish!"

Nal frowned. "Who's that?"

"Let Bastila in, HK," Canderous said. He looked at Nal as he got up and headed back towards the balcony to inform Revan of their guest. "Already this day is off to a fine start."


	41. Revelation

**Chapter Forty-One: Revelation**

Now:

"I'm sorry, Ma'am," the TSF officer said, "but no one is allowed inside to see Commodore Onasi or any member of his party."

Bastila's eyes narrowed. "Officer, I am Bastila Shan of the Jedi Order. I need—"

"Forgive me, Ma'am, but you're not exactly wearing official Jedi robes." The TSF officer looked her up and down. Granted, the outfit she was wearing—a floor-length white skirt with red and gold trim, matching sleeveless top with an exposed midriff and matching earrings—wasn't exactly a Jedi uniform, so she could understand the officer's hesitation. To a point, at least. "So, unless the Jedi have _really_ relaxed their dress code, why don't you just go back to the cantina—"

Her sigh reflected her impatience. "Just tell someone inside that Bastila Shan is here. They can verify who I am."

"Ma'am, with all due respect, how do I know you're not someone who just wants to see the Commodore for—"

"Just do it!" she snapped.

The TSF officer stared at her for a few seconds, then shrugged his shoulders and knocked on the door to the apartment. Bastila closed her eyes, recited the Code, and took a deep breath. She did not sneak out of the Jedi Temple to mouth off at a TSF officer just doing his job; she snuck out to deliver a message. She couldn't trust the holonet as a means of communication; the Council had most channels tapped. And who was to say Citadel Station wasn't monitoring all calls after the lockdown? Besides, in person Revan couldn't ignore her or suddenly and conveniently drop the connection. And with what Bastila had to say, she wouldn't entirely be able to blame the other Jedi for the 'lost connection.'

Bastila had to somehow convince Revan to return to Coruscant with Dustil before the Council arrived to oversee the mission personally. Or at least that was the impression Bastila had been given based on her last meeting with them. Maybe Master Vrook wasn't being literal when he said he'd "rent a damn shuttle" and "bring them back myself." But Bastila wasn't going to take any chances, especially since she was somehow still in their good graces, and planned on staying that way.

Would she still be in their good graces after this little stunt? Something else one never could tell. The Jedi Council had changed their points of view on so many topics over the last eight years; it was easier to calculate the odds of winning a Sabacca tournament than whether the Council would be pleased with a Jedi's actions. And when the Council was as difficult to read as Wookiee poetry, it was always best to just follow the Code. At least that way one wouldn't get in trouble—especially if one was a recovering Sith Apprentice.

Bastila could sense Revan's presence nearby, sense her anxiety and frustration towards Dustil, but above all else, could sense Revan's love for Carth.

Convincing Revan to return to Coruscant would be easy if not for the complication of Carth. And judging from the time it took them to find Dustil versus how long it had been since they began looking, Revan and Carth must had been enjoying their time away from the prying eyes of the Jedi Council.

Dammit, this was going to be harder than Bastila originally thought.

"Statement," Bastila heard a familiar mechanical voice say. "The prudish meatbag is here to see Master."

Bastila blinked at HK-47's description of her and immediately took offense—even though she probably should have been relieved the droid acknowledged knowing her instead of feigning ignorance. "I am not prudish!" She pushed her way past the TSF officer. "Out of all the adjectives Basic has to choose from, that's the one you pick?"

If his face wasn't carved out of metal, Bastila was fairly sure HK-47 would have been grinning in sadistic glee. "Correction: The petulant meatbag—"

"Enough," Bastila ordered. She gave the TSF officer a brief nod of thanks, then entered the apartment—the extravagantly-decorated apartment, she quickly noted. Plants, paintings, expensive-looking furniture… the Telosians spared no expense in putting together a suite for their famous Commodore. Bastila didn't have a trained eye for the finer things in life, which is probably why the whole room looked tacky to her.

And the Mandalorian mercenary standing in the middle of the room looked grossly out of place.

Canderous snorted at her. "Where'ja buy that get-up, Princess? Doesn't exactly look like approved threads."

Princess. It was oddly refreshing to know that in all the months that had passed, Canderous hadn't changed. She placed her hands on her hips and stared at him. "I need to see—" She stopped when she noticed another man sitting on the couch, a blond-haired man wearing a stereotypical smuggler's uniform. She didn't recognize him, and him staring at her not unlike a starving man staring at a nerf steak dinner was not a good first impression. "Who is this?"

"Bastila, this is Nal Simer," Canderous introduced. "Nal, Bastila Shan."

Bastila eyed Nal. "He a friend of yours?" she asked Canderous.

"Not really," the Mandalorian answered.

Nal looked at Canderous. "She a friend of _yours_?"

"Not really."

"Can she be a friend of _mine_?"

Bastila rolled her eyes in disgust then turned her attention back to Canderous. "Where is…" Bastila almost slipped and said 'Revan', but stopped herself. "Where is Liana? I need to speak with her."

"Regarding?"

"Since when do I have to go through you to speak with her?"

Canderous didn't answer. He just stared.

Bastila sighed. "This is a private matter."

He continued to stare.

"Just… tell me where she is!"

She was met with more staring.

Bastila narrowed her eyes then turned to Nal. "Where is she?"

Nal looked at Canderous's steely face, then back at Bastila. "Picking sides might get me in trouble."

"You won't get in trouble," she said. "You're not a child, you're a grown man."

"Did I say 'trouble'?" Nal asked. "I meant 'hurt'."

Before Bastila could say anything back to him, the door to the balcony at the far end of the room opened, and Revan stepped through. She was wearing a blue, tight-fitting dress, her hair loose and make-up on her face. The fact Revan wasn't wearing traditional robes wasn't a good sign. Course, Bastila wasn't either, but that was more so to walk around the station undetected. She could sense that Revan's ensemble wasn't chosen for the same reason, and wondered if Revan had filled the rest of her wardrobe with similar outfits.

Bastila sighed. "There you are."

"And there you are," Revan said. "Question is, what are you doing here?"

Bastila looked at Canderous and Nal. When neither man made any effort to move and give her and Revan some privacy, Bastila gave up. "I'm here to clean this mess up before it gets anymore out of hand."

Canderous smiled. "Ah, so the Jedi Council finally sent their puppet to—"

"I am not their puppet!" Bastila snapped.

Nal blinked. "She's a Jedi, too?" He looked back at Bastila. "Man, you weren't kiddin' about the change in the dress code."

Bastila felt like pulling her hair out. "Okay, who are you? And don't tell me 'Nal Simer' because that means nothing—"

"He's part of the inner circle now," Revan said. "He knows the truth and proved can be trusted with it."

Nal nodded and pointed at HK-47. "Besides, if I talk, the scary droid shoots me."

Revan stepped forward and dismissed Nal's comment with a wave of her hand. "Okay, look. This situation it a bit complicated, I'll admit. But I've got everything under control, so there's no need for you to swoop in and save the day—"

"Do you?" Bastila asked. "Do you honestly believe this situation is under control? Because I can tell you for a fact the Council doesn't believe that. After they learned about Dustil attacking Carth—"

"She had nothing to do with that," Canderous interrupted. "The Council can't blame her for Sith Junior's stupidity."

"Finding Dustil was Revan's responsibility," Bastila said. She looked at Revan. "You were supposed to return Dustil to the Temple for training."

"If he chose so," Revan reminded her. "And he did not."

"Something you failed to pass on to the Council," Bastila said. "Instead of telling them the truth, whatever that truth is, you chose to abandon your oath and run away. I don't care whose child he is. You left a dangerous Sith in civilian hands, and he almost killed a Republic war hero. You call that a situation under control? Do you have any idea what the Council is going to say when they discover you willingly did this?"

The pain Bastila sensed through the Force was Revan's guilt eating away at her. Bastila wasn't completely certain, but she got the general sense that Revan hadn't thought about that angle before. Or maybe she had and hearing it from someone else had solidified her feelings.

Revan shook her head. "Bastila, I'm not saying what I did was right. But it's over, it's done with. I can't change the past, anymore than I can change what happened during the Mandalorian Wars. I plan on owning up to my mistakes to the Council, but right now is not the time."

"Then when will it _be_ the right time?" Bastila asked. "You need to tell them before anymore time passes. This is more complicated than you know."

Nal snorted. "Ain't it always?"

Bastila ignored him. "I don't know all the details, but what I do know is this. You weren't just any Sith, Revan. You were a Sith Lord. Padawans like Dustil or… or myself who have been redeemed from the dark side, the Council knows how to… handle. But—"

"Wait, you were a Sith?" Simer asked. Bastila nodded. He turned to Canderous. "So is there anyone you guys know who isn't a member of a party the galaxy fears?" Canderous shut him up with a glare.

Bastila continued. "You're different. You were a formidable enemy during the Jedi Civil war, much more powerful than Malak could have ever hoped to be. They can't just ease you back into the Order like they can with Dustil. You're a war criminal. Do you know what civilizations would do to you if they ever got their hands on you?"

"So far you aren't telling me anything I don't already know," Revan said. "But please, do continue."

Bastila was slowly getting annoyed at Revan's attitude. How could she not see how important her actions and choices were? How could she not see that she continued to defy the Council, she'd slip right back to the dark side. Was this how she was during the Mandalorian Wars, condescending and defiant to the point of near aggression.

Bastila tried a different approach. "If you keep this up, you'll never make it past Jedi Knight, you won't get a padawan to train, and you won't get a seat on the Council. You'll be forever locked in this limbo with nothing to do until you prove you can be trusted."

"If she keep what up?" Nal asked.

"This!" Bastila said, more frustration in her voice than she had originally planned. "Everything! Everything she's done since she left Coruscant! Everything she's continuing to do!"

Revan clenched her fists. "That's what you came here to tell me?"

"Yes!"

Nal cocked his head. "I don't get it."

Canderous snorted. "I do." He glared at Bastila. "You always had a stick up your ass about the Jedi Code, but now you've yanked it out and are trying to beat people to death with it."

Bastila's words dripped with ice. "This isn't about me."

"Yes, it is," Revan said. "You've convinced yourself I need to start being you. I need to follow the Code to the letter, and do everything the Council wants without question."

It wasn't exactly what Bastila had been trying to convey, but it would work. "For your own sake—"

"For my own sake!" Revan exclaimed. "Bastila, this may come as a shocker for you, but I know I've failed. I've failed miserably, and I'm not trying to hide it. I should have stayed and dealt with Dustil before he exploded. I should have hauled him back to Coruscant and handed him to the Council for _his_ own sake. I should have done a lot of things, but I didn't. But I've got everything under control right now, and flipping a switch and becoming the perfect Jedi isn't going to solve this situation."

"If you hadn't let your emotions get the better of you, you wouldn't be in the situation in the first place!"

"My _emotions_? You don't even know what happened on Korriban—"

"Well, something must have happened emotionally!" Bastila retorted. "Otherwise you would have contacted the Council and returned to Coruscant, like you were supposed to!"

"My _emotions_ are none of your damn—"

"Your emotions got you into this mess before you even left Coruscant! You should have gone on your own without dragging Carth into this!"

"Dustil is Carth's son! I couldn't turn him away!"

"And being able to spend time with Carth away from the Council didn't cross your mind at all? You can't hide your feelings from me, and you can't convince me that you and Carth did not take advantage of the Council's leniency—"

"So you're accusing me and Carth of having non-stop sex for two months before we started looking for Dustil?"

Bastila wrinkled her nose. "I wouldn't have put it so crudely."

"But you are," Revan said. "And now you waltz in here like my mother to scold me, slap my hand, and bring me back home!"

"Like it or not, Revan, you are still under order from the Council to return—"

"You don't understand that I have to stay here!"

"And you don't understand Jedi protocol!" Bastila snapped.

"Doing what the Jedi Council says is one thing," Revan said. "Going about it is another. Technically, I'm still following orders by staying here and making sure things don't get out of control before we head back to Coruscant. We can't afford to have Dustil fly off the handle again, plus I'm not leaving until Carth is well enough to travel."

Bastila tried to reason with a compromise. "You and Dustil can leave now with me. Carth can stay here and heal—"

Revan put durasteel in her tone. "I'm not leaving him behind."

"You can't honestly tell me you still plan on jeopardizing your future for Carth! Revan, you're talking about giving up your future with the Order again for… for… for what?"

Nal chimed in. "Maybe it's his really impressive wussy beard?"

Canderous snorted. "Really impressive for those who can't grow one."

Nal's eyes narrowed. "I have blonde hair. Beards makes me look dumb."

Canderous cocked an eyebrow. "It's just the beard makes you look—"

"Hush it," Nal warned.

Bastila was beyond frustrated. "Think about this, Revan! Think about what you're giving up!"

"Giving up?" Revan asked, taken aback. "I know exactly what I'm giving up. I've giving up a life as a prisoner of the Jedi—"

Bastila took offense. "They are not treating you like a prisoner!"

"Sure about that, Princess?" Canderous asked. "If the Council has their way, they'd keep her inside the Temple for the rest of her days. In the meantime, they won't let her advance in rank, won't let her pass on her knowledge to a padawan, and won't give her a seat on the Council she damn well deserves for bein' brighter than all their brains together. And for what? Because she doesn't lead the life of a perfect Jedi now that all of her Sith tattoos have disappeared? What the hell is she supposed to do?"

"Perhaps in time the Council will reconsider their opinions," Bastila answered, irritated yet not surprised that Canderous was taking Revan's side. "But not anytime soon if she refuses to follow the Jedi Code."

"If memory serves, her not following the Code was the best thing she could have done for the Republic," Canderous said.

"And that's coming from a Mandalorian," Nal added.

Bastila shook her head. "It might have been the best for the Republic, but not for the Jedi."

Revan tried to interject. "Alright, look—"

"And that's coming from a puppet of the Council," Canderous said to Nal.

"I am not their puppet!" Bastila snapped.

"Then you have to tell me whose side you're on, because things are awfully fuzzy from where I'm standin'," Canderous replied.

"Enough!" Revan snapped. She looked at Canderous. "I can fight my own battles." Then she turned to Bastila. "And don't think I so blind to my emotions that I'm not reading between the lines, here. That Council-loving brain of yours has twisted this entire situation around, and you've convinced yourself I'm repeating the actions of my downfall."

Bastila hesitated. Revan was right; Bastila did fear Revan was repeating her old life over again. But the Council hadn't twisted Bastila's mind into believe that. The evidence spoke for itself. "There is no mistaking that this situation with the Onasis is eerily familiar to how you handled the Mandalorian Wars—"

It was Nal who spoke up. "Whoa! Canderous, buddy, how did we miss this?" He stood up and feigned shock and awe, as if Bastila had just unraveled the mysteries of the universe. "Revan wiping out an entire enemy army threatening to destroy the Republic as they killed millions and destroyed planets while the Jedi Council sat on their asses is _exactly_ like her not wanting to return to Corsucant until Dustil's sane and Carth's healthy!" He stood in front of Bastila and placed one hand on her shoulder, the other over his heart. "Thank you, Bastila, _so_ much for coming here to tell us this. Otherwise we would have been helpless against Darth Revan's tyrannical return! HK! Arrest your master!"

Bastila gritted her teeth. "Take your hands off of me." She pulled away and moved a few steps back so Nal wasn't blocking her view of Canderous and Revan. The look on Canderous's face almost made Bastila want to use Nal as a human shield again. "What I _meant_ was, like with the wars, Revan went against the Council and took matters into her own hands. She ignored their orders, and look what it lead to. And right now she's ignoring their orders. Again. Who knows what troubles will come because of this?"

Revan turned sharply and headed down the side hall.

"Where are you going?" Bastila asked.

"I'm leaving this room so I don't break your neck!"

Bastila didn't hide her disgust. She sat down on the couch opposite Nal, crossed her legs at the knee and folded her arms across her chest.

"I wouldn't sit there if I were you!" Revan called back as she walked away.

"Why not?"

"Carth and I had sex on that couch!"

Bastila shot up like a rocket.

Canderous studied the couch, titled his head, then shrugged. "Republic must be more flexible than I give him credit for."

Bastila glared at the Mandalorian. "That's the one thing I don't miss about you: the vulgar, rude comments."

He raised an eyebrow. "Which means there is something about me you miss?"

Visually flustered, Bastila's hands clamped right back on her hips as she resumed pacing. "She doesn't understand! She doesn't get it! I'm trying to help her and she… she… just…" Bastila let out a cry of frustration.

"Well, let's see here, Princess," Canderous said. "You storm in here unannounced and accuse Revan _to her face_ of becoming a Sith Lord, and you wonder why she's being difficult."

"I didn't accuse her of becoming—"

"No," Nal said. "You alluded to it." He shook his head. "Look, lady, I don't know who you, I really don't care, and I no longer want to be your friend. But as someone who has only know Revan for two weeks, I can tell you there's isn't an evil bone in that woman's body."

Bastila looked at him as if he were brainless. "She's a former Sith Lord."

"Hey, I didn't say she wasn't scary. I just said she wasn't evil."

"She'll struggle with her redemption for the rest of her life," Bastila said. "Constantly second-guessing herself, constantly wondering if she'll fall again. She won't find the peace she desperately needs unless she listens to the Code and follows the rules of the Order."

Canderous raised an eyebrow. "You sure you're talking about Revan and not yourself, apprentice?"

Bastila's lips thinned. "Need I remind you that this isn't about me?"

Nal blinked. "Wait… I'm missing something here. You said she was Sith earlier…"

The corner of Canderous's mouth rose. "She was Darth Malak's apprentice."

Nal stared at him. "So what you're saying is Bastila should be keeping her big hypocritical mouth shut?"

"This isn't about me!" Bastila snapped.

Canderous snorted. "Keep telling yourself that, Princess."

"Stop turning this around!" Bastila cried. "This is about Revan! This is about the hasty, reckless decisions she continues to make! This has got to stop before the Council steps in and forced her to stop!"

"You talk about a daily basis struggling with the dark side," Canderous replied. "She does, too. You hide behind the Council to cope. She hides behind Carth. I'm not saying you're right, I'm not saying she's wrong. That's the reality of the situation. You aren't going to change her mind, and she isn't trying to change yours. Deal with it and move on."

"She's the most powerful Jedi of this generation. She can't just up and walk away!"

"Carth screamed at her on Korriban over what happened with Sith Junior, and her solution was to flee. If her goal in life was be a Grand Master of the Jedi, she would have fled to Coruscant and let the Jedi… well, turn her into you."

Bastila's icy stare reflected her annoyance. But then she realized just what he had said. She eyed him suspiciously. "Wait, did Revan tell you what happened on Korriban?"

Canderous said nothing.

"She did, didn't she?"

"Revan confided in me the events on Korriban," he confirmed without backing down. "If she means for you to know, she'll tell you herself."

"What do you know?" she pressed. "Tell me."

He glared right back. "If you're trying to intimidate me, you're talking through a dead commlink."

A male voice rang through the room, making everyone jump in surprise: "I'll tell you what happened."

Canderous looked over and saw standing in the entranceway to the side hall the young man that caused the entire incident in the first place. His eyes narrowed as Dustil sternly entered the room.

"But first," Dustil continued, "one of you has to explain why you didn't see it necessary to inform me my father's sleeping with a Sith Lord."

* * *

_A-ha! I have not given up on this story! Life had gotten in the way since I last updated, but I'm back! Thank you to everyone for your kind words in your reviews! I really appreciate the continuing feedback and comments, even if I didn't get a chance to thank you for them personally. Some of your comments, in fact, made my day, and forced me to find the time to revisit this little tale. So thank you all again! _


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